A RESOLUTION
From the source of the Indus we travelled on north-eastwards with our
friendly guide to a locality called Yumba-matsen, which lies in lat. 32°
N. And thence I betook myself to Gartok, the chief town of western Tibet
and the residence of the two Garpuns, where I arrived after many
adventures on September 26, having crossed the Trans-Himalaya for the
fifth time by the Jukti-la (19,111 feet high). I must, alas! omit a
description of this journey for the present, though it passed for the
most part through unknown country. Mr. Calvert crossed over the Jukti-la
two years before.
In Gartok (14,656 feet) a new period began. This town is a turning-point
in the chronicles of my journey. In the first place, I again came into
contact with the outer world. Thakur Jai Chand, the British commercial
agent, handed me immediately on my arrival a thick packet of letters,
including a quantity from my dear home, and others from Lord and Lady
Minto and their daughters, from Colonel Dunlop Smith, Younghusband,
O'Connor, Rawling, and many other friends in Europe and Asia. Nothing,
however, was heard of the heavy consignment I expected from Simla. But
soon afterwards I heard from Dunlop Smith that all I had ordered was on
the way and would arrive in due course, and meantime I had to wait in
patience.
The Garpuns at once sent me presents as a token of welcome, with the
usual polite phrases. They were of too great importance to visit me
first, so next day I went to them. The elder was ill; the younger, a
gentleman from Lhasa, thirty-five years of age and of distinguished
appearance, received me most cordially in his simple Government
buildings, and was so little angry at the liberties I had recently taken
that he did not even ask me where I had been. It was an irony of fate
that a letter in most friendly terms and most liberal in its
concessions, which I now received from Lien Darin by the hand of the
Garpun, had not reached me until it was too late. When Lien Darin
received my letter from Raga-tasam, he immediately sent off two Chinamen
fully authorized to come to an agreement with me about the route I was
to take. "For I shall be glad to know," said the Amban of Lhasa, "that
you are travelling by the road that suits you." He was quite convinced
that my movements, whichever way I took, would give no cause for
political complications. And he concluded with the words: "Now, I hope
that you will have a successful and peaceful journey, and I will pray
for your health and prosperity."
How I regretted now that I had not stayed in Saka, and so much the more
when the Garpun told me that the two Chinamen had arrived with an escort
of four Tibetans only two weeks after we had left! But the Garpun was
friendly disposed towards me; he was the most powerful man in western
Tibet, and could still throw open all doors for me, if he dared and was
willing to do so.
[Illustration: 283. OLD WOMAN.]
[Illustration: 284. LAMA IN CHUSHUT.
Sketches by the Author.]
I was, indeed, pleased and thankful for the results which I had already
been able to secure. Besides many other problems that had been solved, I
had crossed the Trans-Himalaya by five passes, namely, the Sela-la,
Chang-la-Pod-la, Angden-la, Tseti-lachen-la, and Jukti-la, of which the
first four had been entirely unknown. But between the Angden-la and the
Tseti-lachen-la I had been obliged to leave a gap of quite 330 miles in
the exploration of the Trans-Himalaya. Of this region nothing was known
but the summits Ryder had seen from his route, and which he and Wood had
measured by observation. We also possessed some uncertain statements of
Nain Sing's journey in 1873, but his route lay to the north of the blank
patch, and this blank represented an area of 5300 square miles. I could
not return home without having done all that was humanly possible to
traverse the unknown country by at least one route. Precisely there was
the line forming the watershed between the Indian Ocean and the inland
drainage of the salt lakes on the Tibetan plateau. There many lakes and
rivers might be expected to exist, and there lay the large province of
Bongba, of which so many hazy reports had reached our ears from its
northern, eastern, and southern boundaries. But the greatest and most
important question of all was: Does the Nien-chen-tang-la run right
through Tibet in a westerly and north-westerly direction to the north of
the Tsangpo and the upper Indus? No European and no pundit had hitherto
ventured on this problem; but Hodgson, Saunders, and Atkinson had many
years before laid down a hypothetical range on their maps of Tibet. Did
it actually exist? Or was a labyrinth of ranges hidden under the white
space, or a comparatively flat plateau, on which foundation isolated
snowy peaks and chains were based? Hypotheses are absolutely worthless
compared to proved facts. Such facts I would procure. I knew that if I
did not succeed now in penetrating into the country which on the latest
English map of Tibet (1906, Map 1) bears only the word "Unexplored," one
fine day another explorer would come and rob me of this triumph. And
this thought I could not endure.
In Gartok my old friend from Leh, the rich merchant Gulam Razul, was
staying (Illust. 272). I consulted him, and he was to be my delivering
angel. He took a very sanguine view of our position, for the Garpun owed
him 7000 rupees for goods delivered, and feared his influence; he could
therefore put pressure on the Viceroy of western Tibet. He first tried
stratagem, which, however, completely failed, for the Garpun replied he
was too fond of his head to expose it to risk by assisting a European
who had no permission to travel about the country. Then we tried gold,
but the Garpun answered most theatrically: "If this house were of gold
and you offered it to me, I would not take it. If you travel on
forbidden roads, I will send armed men after you who will force you to
return hither."
He was incorruptible, and he was too strong for us. How sorry I was now
that I had not proceeded eastwards when I was in enjoyment of complete
freedom at the source of the Indus and in Yumba-matsen! But no, that was
impossible, for my cash-box was then not full enough, I had only five
men with me, and I could not have left the rest of my caravan to their
own devices.
What if I went down into Nepal and came back again into Tibet by
unguarded roads? No, that would not do, for snow would soon close the
Himalayan passes. And if we tried to slink through to Rudok and thence
make eastwards? No, Rudok swarmed with spies. And soon Gulam Razul
learned also that the Garpun had sent orders throughout his territory to
stop me in case I attempted to travel even to Ladak by any other than
the main high-road.
Thus we planned this and that, and mused day and night, sometimes in my
tent, sometimes in Gulam Razul's, and waited for the consignment from
Simla, heard bells jingle when couriers came from the east, saw one
merchant after another return from the fair in Lhasa, met the _serpun_
or gold commissioner who came from Tok-jalung, and felt the cold of
autumn cut our skins more sharply as the thermometer fell to -11°.
Then in lonely hours I came to the resolution to return to Ladak and
thence, as in the year before, penetrate into Tibet from the north,
traverse the whole country once more, and cross the blank space. I knew
very well that by this roundabout way it would take half a year to reach
districts situated only a month's journey from Gartok. A new caravan
would be necessary, new dangers and adventures awaited us, and winter
was before us with its Arctic cold. But it must be done in spite of
everything. I would not turn back until the obstacles in my way became
quite insuperable. To enter Ladak, a country under British protection,
was a risk, and therefore I must make all haste to cross the frontier
again. I could not avoid Rawling's and Deasy's country, but what did it
matter? My aim was the unknown region, which I would try to explore by
some route or other.
Gulam Razul and Robert were the only ones who were initiated into my new
plans, for in them I could place the blindest confidence. During our
conferences we spoke in Persian, and Robert kept a watch that no
eavesdropper came near my tent. Gulam Razul undertook to get together
the new caravan from Leh, and it was to reach at a certain time Drugub,
where I meant to dismiss my last thirteen men; they were worn-out and
longed to get home. Gulam Razul undertook the responsibility of finding
me fresh men.
On October 20 we left Gartok to await in Gar-gunsa the arrival of the
consignment from India. Gulam Razul, Thakur Jai Chand, the postmaster
Deni Das, and the doctor Mohanlal, also moved thither. Robert had heard
in Gartok the sad news that his elder brother had died in Further India,
and now he received a fresh blow, for his little brother, ten years old,
had been drowned in Srinagar. He was inconsolable, and begged me to let
him go home to his mother, who had now only one son left. So I was to
lose him also.
Gulam Razul had three large tents within his fence of boughs (Illust.
254). There he sat like a pasha on his divan, smoked a large silver
narghilé, and received his guests with Oriental dignity. He was jovial
and agreeable, undertook to do everything, and thought nothing of
difficulties. There we made our plans and long lists of things to be
bought, and as my arrival in Ladak could not be kept secret for long, we
spread the report that I wanted a new caravan for a journey to Khotan,
and that I intended to travel to Pekin in the spring. For the success of
the plan it was essential that no one should have any suspicion of my
real intentions; for in that case, especial orders would be sent to
Rudok and to the nomads. My own servants and all Hajji Nazer Shah's
household believed therefore that it was my settled purpose to go to
Khotan, and that I had given up all thoughts of Tibet. I even went so
far as to send a telegram from Drugub to Reuter's correspondent in
India, my friend Mr. Buck, with the information that I was about to make
a short journey to Khotan. The object was to mislead the mandarins. If
no one else would help me, I must help myself, and, if necessary, with
cunning and trickery. None of my Indian friends must have any suspicion
of my real plans, not even Colonel Dunlop Smith; it would, of course, be
silly to put them in a position where they must either betray me or be
disloyal to their own superiors. Except Gulam Razul and Robert, only my
parents and sisters were let into the secret. But, unfortunately, I had
given them a far too optimistic estimate of the length of my enterprise,
and therefore when they heard no news they became day by day more
uneasy, and at last came to the conclusion that I had come to grief
(Illust. 234).
On October 29, 1907, Gulam Razul's mules arrived, and were subjected to
a thorough inspection. They were in splendid condition--small, sturdy,
and sleek animals from Lhasa, accustomed to rarefied air, and, according
to the owner, capable of enduring hardships of every kind. Gulam Razul
even offered to buy them back at the price I paid, if they returned
alive. I paid for all the twenty 1780 rupees. I still possessed five of
my own animals, after a small white mule had been torn to pieces by
wolves in Gartok. A whole pack had attacked our last six animals, the
camp watchman had been unable to drive the wolves away, and the mule had
been horribly wounded. He had been seen running before the wolves with
his entrails trailing on the ground. The last mule from Poonch still
survived, as well as my little Ladaki grey and one of his fellows, the
veterans of Leh.
[Illustration: 285. ON THE WAY TO TANKSE.]
[Illustration: 286. IN THE INDUS VALLEY ON THE WAY TO LADAK.]
[Illustration: 287. THE NEW HORSES AND MULES AT DRUGUB.]
Gulam Razul also undertook to procure for me fifteen excellent horses
from Ladak at a price of 1500 rupees. The other purchases consisted of:
barley for the animals, 60 rupees; rice, 70 rupees; _tsamba_, 125
rupees; provender sacks, 60 rupees; clothes for the new men, 152 rupees;
butter, 80 rupees; tea, 50 rupees; stearin candles and sugar, 104
rupees; a Lhasa skin coat for myself, 40 rupees; and a sleeping-bag of
soft goatskin, also for myself, 25 rupees; in addition there was the
hire of the pack animals which conveyed my baggage to Leh, 40 rupees,
and the cost of transporting the newly purchased goods from Leh to
Drugub, 20 rupees. Eleven men were to be enlisted in Leh, all having
served in Hajji Nazer Shah's commercial house and known as honest
respectable people. They were to receive 15 rupees a month each,
though their usual wages had not been more than 12, and three months'
pay in advance. The caravan bashi was to receive 50 rupees a month and
be selected with very great care. My whole debt to Gulam Razul amounted
to nearly 5000 rupees, for those who had had the trouble of making all
these purchases were to receive a douceur over and above. I sent a note
of hand to Colonel Dunlop Smith, with directions that this sum should be
paid to Gulam Razul, in order that he might have security if I did not
return from this journey.
On October 30 Gulam Razul sent his son to Leh to equip the new caravan,
which was to reach Drugub, ready in all particulars, on November 30. For
the valuable services rendered me on this occasion Gulam Razul
afterwards received from H.M. King Gustaf of Sweden the gold medal "for
distinguished service," and I recommended him to the Indian Government
for the title of honour, Khan Bahadur; of course I based my appeal in
this case on the great commercial services he had rendered to the Indian
Empire.
In Gar-gunsa I heard news of a new treaty between Great Britain and
Russia, which had been concluded in October of this year. "Great Britain
and Russia bind themselves not to allow any scientific expedition of any
kind whatsoever to enter Tibet for the next three years without previous
agreement, and call upon China to act similarly" (Illust. 274).
It seemed as though this clause were especially designed to meet my
case. I said not a word to Gulam Razul about it. But I saw that I could
no longer travel in Tibet as a European. Last year I had been successful
when the political situation was still unsettled, but I had taught both
the Chinese and Tibetans a lesson, and shown them that it was possible
for a European to travel right across the country. I had also placed a
weapon in their hands against me. I should not be able to manage it a
second time. Now they would keep their eyes open along the periphery of
the inhabited country. I must travel in disguise to attract as little
attention as possible. Another courier was therefore sent to Leh to
procure me a complete Ladaki costume in Mohammedan fashion. Gulam Razul
also was of opinion that, considering all circumstances, it would be
wisest to travel as a merchant. The new caravan leader was to be our
master, while I myself should figure as "the least of his servants," and
keep myself out of sight in all negotiations.
The whole affair was a desperate game, a political and diplomatic game
of chess, the stakes being my own life or great geographical
discoveries. I, who had hitherto stood on the most friendly and
confidential terms with the Tibetans, must now avoid them as enemies. I
should not be able to see any Tibetan face to face, and should have to
conceal my own eyes in order not to be caught. Therefore a large pair of
round goggles with dark glasses was bought; inside them I fastened
polished glasses of the strength suited to my sight. My European outfit
was restricted as much as was at all possible; the large camera and the
boat were sent to Leh with my other baggage, and I took with me only a
small Richard's camera.
The main point was that in inhabited districts I should conduct myself
with Oriental self-control and be entirely passive. The outcome of this
mad plan was to me enshrouded in impenetrable darkness. I only knew that
I must go northwards from Drugub in the direction of the Karakorum pass,
then turn to the east and south-east, and endeavour to cross from
Lemchung-tso the blank space lying to the south of Bower's route in
1891, and thence continue my journey through the great blank patch on
the north of the upper Tsangpo. If I were successful, I would go south
to India either through Nepal or through Gyangtse, where perhaps I might
have an opportunity of meeting Major O'Connor, as I had always wished to
do. Gulam Razul advised me to be very cautious, for the Rudok-dzong had
a paid spy in Drugub, who had to report on the movements of Europeans on
the English side of the frontier. This spy was one of the most dangerous
reefs in my fairway; the suspicion of the Tibetans was at once roused
when they found that I had bought twenty mules from Gulam Razul. The
Garpun sent a messenger to find out what I wanted them for. He was told
that they were for a journey to Khotan.
Thakur Jai Chand had an excellent _jamadar_ whom he sent to meet the
baggage coming from India. At length, in the beginning of November, we
received news that the consignment was coming. Then Robert proposed to
go to meet our wished-for guests with some of our new mules. Late on the
evening of the 6th they all turned up when I was already in bed. They
were five policemen from Rampur, one of them suffering from inflammation
of the lungs and more dead than alive. When Robert met them they were so
starved and exhausted that he had first to massage the whole party to
put new life into them (Illust. 276).
I at once gave orders to light a roaring fire and serve tea. They came
up with their laden mules, two Mohammedans, three Hindus--all in dark
blue uniforms with tall blue-and-white turbans, rifles, and bayonets. I
bade them welcome, thanked them for the excellent way in which they had
performed their task, and made their corporal give me an account of
their difficult and trying journey over the Ayi-la. Then they were shown
to sleeping-places in a tent, and next day I looked through the nine
chests sent to me by Colonel Dunlop Smith. Three of them contained 6000
rupees in silver, all of the Queen's reign, none of the King's, for the
Tibetans will not take rupees on which King Edward's face is stamped.
The other boxes contained tinned meat of all kinds, preserves,
chocolate, cheese, cakes and biscuits; cigars, cigarettes and tobacco;
gold and silver watches, and revolvers with ammunition, for presents;
cartridges for two of our guns; note-books and map paper; a whole
library of new novels, including Jack London's _The Call of the Wild_--a
present from O'Connor and suitable reading for the adventurous time
before us; an anemometer and a hydrometer, presents from the chief of
the Central Meteorological Institute in Simla, Dr. Gilbert Walker; and a
host of other necessary and acceptable articles. The amiable Colonel,
his equally amiable sister, and his daughter, had had no end of trouble
in selecting and purchasing the things, packing them up and
transmitting them to Tibet. It was owing to their kindness that I was
able for a long time to live like a prince, and I cannot be sufficiently
grateful to them.
Now I had nothing more to wait for. The policemen were well paid, and I
also bore the expense of their return journey and gave them winter
clothing; took a hearty farewell of my sincere friend Gulam Razul,
without whose help the new journey would have been impossible; thanked
Thakur Jai Chand and the other Hindus for their kindness, and started
off on November 9, 1907, north-westwards along the course of the upper
Indus.
On the 26th we reached Tankse, where the dignitaries of the district and
even the _tesildar_ of Leh came to meet us. They had already heard that
I intended to travel to Khotan in midwinter. The following day was to be
a day of rest, for here I was to discharge all my old servants except
Robert and the Gurkha, Rub Das. When I had breakfasted, Tsering carried
out the plates and dishes, which now had many chips out of their enamel.
"This is the last time, Tsering, that you will wait on me." Then the old
man began to weep, and hurried out quickly.
Then I summoned all the men to my tent and made them a speech, telling
them that they had served me faithfully and obediently, and had well
earned the comfort and repose that awaited them by their domestic
hearths in the bosom of their families. I wished them good fortune and
prosperity in the future, and reminded them of the loss we had all
sustained by the death of Muhamed Isa--good old Muhamed Isa, who, when
we were last at Tankse, had made all arrangements so cleverly and
conscientiously. And to show them that we were not the only ones who
mourned for him, I read them what Younghusband, O'Connor, and Rawling
had written to me about the deceased.
[Illustration: 288. ROBERT IN WINTER DRESS.]
While their five horses and five yaks were being loaded with all their
belongings, they came to me in my tent, one after another, to receive
their pay and an extra present. Tsering, Rehim Ali, Shukkur Ali, and
Tundup Sonam received especial gifts of money, the latter three
having exposed themselves to danger on my account. Old Tsering asked
to be allowed to keep the lame dog from the Ngangtse-tso; its bark
before his hut in Leh would remind him of the time when the dog kept
watch at our camp-fires. Shukkur Ali kept another dog from the same
country. Now I had only the brown puppy, which, with Robert and the mule
from Poonch, were among the oldest veterans of the caravan, all three
having accompanied me from Srinagar.
And then came the bitter moment of parting. So much grief, such loud
weeping! They could hardly tear themselves away. The _tesildar_ was
quite overcome at witnessing the deep attachment of my simple followers.
The bonds were strong that were now torn asunder, for there is nothing
which knits men together so firmly as common sufferings and dangers. I
myself felt a catch in my throat, and, as the men reluctantly followed
their yaks down the road to Drugub, I stood and watched them until they
were out of sight. Then I dried my eyes before going into my tent, where
Robert and the _tesildar_ were waiting for me with tea and cakes served
up by Rub Das. I could not help thinking of a funeral repast after an
interment, at which a wreath of violets had been laid on the grave of a
departed friend.
Next morning I awoke to new surroundings. All my old companions were
scattered to the four winds, and now they were gone all seemed empty and
deserted. Robert read off the meteorological instruments as usual, and
Rub Das laid my breakfast as noiselessly as an elf. I was glad that in
spite of everything I felt not the slightest irresolution. The same
angel who had protected me on my former journey would again attend my
steps. I seemed to hear once more in the distance the rustle of his
wings in the cold winter nights on the Chang-tang.