TSONGPUN TASHI
March 27. Nearly -4° in the night--still winter. But at one o'clock the
temperature rose to 46½°--spring was coming.
An old man sold us four sheep in the morning, and then prowled about our
tents. He could not at all understand why we had come hither, especially
at this season, but Abdul Kerim told him that when we left Tok-jalung
the most severe cold was over. This was a new story we had invented,
because it was more probable than the former, and would pass better in
the southern parts of the country.
Here, also, stood the usual tent with a view up to the pass, and I was
obliged to go on foot up to the summit of the Ladung-la with its 17,395
feet. But here the view was encouraging; we had level or declining
ground before us for four days. The descent from the pass to the south
was precipitous, and we stumbled and slid through the rubbish, which
rattled down behind us, and I had the satisfaction of ruining my boots
and clothes more than ever. The valley turned off to the right,
south-west, and in the Janglung district, where we encamped, a young
shepherd informed us that we should come to Tsongpun Tashi's tent next
day.
Numerous springs bubbled up from the valley bottom and formed a little
clear brook full of fish between grassy swards. Here some of us halted
and used Kutus's girdle as a net. At the first haul we caught 18 fish,
and we did not cease till we had 160--not large ones, but quite
sufficient to feed all thirteen of us. It was amusing to see Little
Puppy as he stood watching attentively and regarding the sprawling
fishes, barking and shaking his head. He had never in his life seen
running water before, and must have supposed that he could walk upon it
as safely as on clear ice. Quite unsuspiciously he jumped down from the
grass, where the brook was 2 feet deep, and entirely disappeared under
the water. When he had, with much difficulty, struggled up again, he was
much amazed and disconcerted, and prowled about growling with
displeasure at the cold bath. After that he kept far away from the
deceitful brook.
March 28. Now we saw that we could trust Takkar, so we let him loose. He
did not run away, but was in the best of tempers, and flew like an arrow
over the slopes, enjoying his freedom, and played with Little Puppy, who
became furious when the huge brute came racing down on him with playful
leaps, so that he rolled over and over on the ground.
Abdul Kerim was to go on the new horse with the Ladaki saddle,
accompanied by two men, to look out for Tsongpun Tashi. He had plenty of
money to buy anything he might find, and in reply to searching questions
he was to say that we had orders from Gulam Razul to meet one of his
caravans in Raga-tasam, which in about ten days was to leave Lhasa, and
then accompany it to Ladak.
I had to ride my grey horse barebacked, but I had not got far before we
passed two tents, where four Tibetans came out to look at us. Two of our
men went and talked to them while the rest of us followed the brook
through the valley. A little further and we had to be careful again, for
there were three more tents and two large flocks, the owner of which
possessed 3000 sheep. Sheepfolds, old camping-places, and _manis_ were
all around, for we were on a great highway, and therefore I kept close
to the sheep, and whistled and shouted at them. At the mouth of a side
valley, on the left, stood a large white tent with blue borders, which
was said to belong to the chief of the district, the Gova Chykying. A
man came out of the tent, hurried after us, and asked whence we came and
whither we were going. Two women came out of a tent inhabited by
beggars, and put the same questions. A mile or so farther we were out of
sight of tents, and I jumped on my grey horse, but I could not ride far,
for more tents appeared farther down the valley. We encamped by the side
of the brook in the Kung-sherya country, where the valley is very broad
and open, and tents are seen in many directions. From one of these,
which stood below ours, a man came and made inquiries. He said that one
of the tents, which looked large and important, belonged to Takyung
Lama, abbot of Mendong-gompa, a monastery three days' journey to the
south-east. Now we were in a warm corner, with the district chief, a
high lama, and Tsongpun Tashi as near neighbours, and the Governor of
the great province of Bongba not far off. It would be a marvel if we
succeeded in making our way out of this wasps' nest. One thing was
certain, that we must make off next morning, before news of our arrival
had spread about.
After we had waited several hours Abdul Kerim came. We could see at a
long distance that he had bought a horse, which was laden with sacks and
bags containing rice, barley, butter, and _tsamba_. Tsongpun Tashi
proved to be an old man of a poverty-stricken and mean appearance, but
his large tent was full of goods, sacks, and packets of tea, and his
movable shop was very well stocked. Naturally he was much surprised at
the visit, but he swallowed the story that Abdul Kerim dished up for
him. He had even given him the names of all the places where we ought to
camp on the way to Saka-dzong and Raga-tasam, and advised us to be well
on our guard in a district he called Bupgo-lathit, where there were
always robbers. He related that a band of robbers had, a few weeks
before, attacked and plundered Targyaling-gompa, the monastery where we
had met with such a hostile reception in June of the preceding year.
Forty men with horses and guns had been levied to chase the band, but
Tsongpun Tashi said that these forty men were little better than robbers
themselves, and that we ought to inquire about them, so as to avoid them
as they returned. Abdul Kerim promised Tsongpun Tashi to barter our sick
black horse for some provisions, but Abdul Kerim did not know that
Abdullah had already exchanged the horse at the beggars' tent for two
sheep and a goat. There the faithful horse would see happy days again
when the grass grew up.
After Abdul Kerim had drunk tea he went on to visit the Gova Chykying,
who came out of his tent and said that Takyung Lama had that very day
imposed on him eight days' _yangguk_--that means that he must not
transact any kind of business, but must devote himself entirely, on
account of his sins, to contemplation in his own house. That was fine
for us; the Gova was reduced to a negligible quantity.
March 29. Temperature 13° in the night, and 55° at seven o'clock--this
is spring. Welcome mild salubrious breezes, come to thaw our frozen
joints!
Early in the morning came a couple of our men tramping along with
another dog, light yellow, dirty, and loathsome. He was inhospitably
received by Takkar, who immediately gave him a sharp pinch in the neck,
and seemed to think that the new member of the caravan was quite
superfluous as long as he kept watch himself.
Far in the north a solitary Tibetan appeared, and approached our camp. I
was sitting at breakfast, and was hoping that we should soon leave this
dangerous place. I went out and looked through the field-glass; the
stranger was making straight for our tents. Soon Abdul Kerim came and
said that it was Tsongpun Tashi himself. He stopped at some distance and
called to us to tie up our dogs, for Takkar had rushed at the old man,
who defended himself with stones. The men were purposely slow in
fastening up the dogs, in order to give me time to put the interior of
my tent in order. On such occasions my note-books and instruments were
crammed into a rice sack, which always stood ready. There was no other
furniture, for we had burned all European articles and boxes long
before.
Meanwhile, Abdul Kerim conducted Tsongpun Tashi into his tent, which
stood close against mine, and I listened to their conversation at a
distance of little more than a yard. By degrees the talk became, to say
the least of it, lively. Tsongpun Tashi raised his voice more and more,
and Abdul Kerim was evidently in a serious dilemma.
"Did you not promise to give me the black horse in exchange for butter?
Bring the horse immediately. If you do not keep your word, I will detain
the whole pack of you here. We do not let men that break their word
escape in Bongba. I thought yesterday that you were honest men, but now
I see what you are up to. Now I shall begin by searching your tents."
With that he got up as angry as a wasp and went out. But Gulam, who was
always alert and never lost a word of a conversation, had let Takkar
loose again. As soon as Tsongpun Tashi showed himself at the tent door
the dog flew at him again. He backed, and Abdul seized the opportunity
to call out in a gruff voice: "Kutus, take Hajji Baba with you and go
and look for the lost horse."
"What horse is that?" asked Tsongpun.
"It is one of our horses which has run away up the mountain, and we
cannot set out till we have found him."
"What colour is he?" asked Tsongpun with uncomfortable inquisitiveness.
"Grey," replied Abdul Kerim, who had difficulty in concealing his
uneasiness, for it was he who had pledged the black steed without
knowing whether it was still in our possession.
"Very well, I shall stay here till you have found the grey horse."
During the minute this conversation lasted Tsongpun Tashi had walked
towards the opening of my tent, when Kutus came running up from the
other side, seized me by the collar, and whispered "Come." We hurried
off to a crag on the north-east, and so just escaped the clutches of
Tsongpun.
"What man is that?" the old man asked, pointing at me, as I was making
off with clumsy waddling steps.
"Hajji Baba, one of my servants," answered Abdul Kerim, without moving a
muscle.
We did not look round as we went off to the point, and were glad when at
length we were hidden by a projecting rock. Then we scrambled up a
fissure whence we could see all around. Here we lay a weary time with
our hearts in our mouths, while Tsongpun Tashi waited for the runaway
horse, which had not run away at all, for all our animals stood ready
laden before our tents. But he must have lost patience. After Gaffar had
gone to the tent to try and get back the black horse, but met with a
refusal, for the horse had been fed with barley and was getting on
splendidly, Tsongpun Tashi seemed to make in that direction himself,
accompanied by Gaffar. But he changed his mind, for he turned back
half-way, and soon we saw him going to the fine tent of the soul-doctor,
which stood about 300 yards farther down the valley. He was attended by
one of our men, who helped him to carry the sacks in which the goods
acquired the previous day were packed.
We remained quiet in our hiding-place of much-weathered green schist,
full of quartz veins, from which we could peep out without being seen.
We were supposed to be looking for the lost horse. But now the caravan
was ready, and began to move down the valley past the abbot's tent.
Tsongpun Tashi's errand had been to take farewell of the prelate, who
was setting out this day for Mendong-gompa, absolutely unknown in all
the maps in the world, and his yaks stood tethered and surrounded by a
troop of servants. Abdul Kerim was shrewd enough to send no messenger
after us, but leave us to take care of ourselves. And so we did when we
had had enough of the green schist--we could not lie still till
doomsday. But we had to pass the abbot's tent, and there sat Tsongpun
Tashi, unless he were among the men outside. We sneaked on. Kutus walked
next the tent to screen me. My disguise was perfect, and I had a black
face. We passed with some trepidation quite close to the tent; two
savage dogs rushed at us and we threw stones at them, thereby deranging
our order of march and making a change of front. Confounded dogs! We had
passed the tent, and, so far, had done well. But if Tsongpun Tashi
noticed us--and he could scarcely fail to do so, for the dogs barked so
furiously--he would certainly wonder in which direction the grey horse
had made off. If he had no suspicion of us he must be, beyond
comparison, the greatest ass that I had ever fallen in with.
We made haste and soon overtook the others, and were lost among them.
The valley sloped down--a fortunate thing for me, as I had to travel on
foot where so many pitfalls surrounded me on all sides. Abdul Kerim rode
grandly on my horse at the head of the party. On the left were a
white-and-blue and a black tent with twenty yaks. Two men hurried up to
us, and Abdul Kerim met and spoke to them. We marched along the ice belt
of the brook, and passed five more tents, and, at all, the men came out
to look at us. I walked with the sheep farther from the tents than the
caravan. We passed twenty tents that day; it was a dangerous stretch of
country, and it was strange that we came through safely.
A woman, carrying a load of wool on her back, overtook us. She was so
bold as to join herself to the caravan and ask to be allowed to put her
wool on one of the yaks. Never have I so heartily wished a woman at the
devil. Abdul Rasak took the woman in hand and offered to carry half her
load to her tent, and so they jogged along the road far ahead, and freed
us from her suspicious company.
We took it for granted that she was a spy. When we encamped below a
sheepfold, there she was again, established herself inside the fold,
lighted a fire and fetched water. She must drink tea before she went on
homewards, she said; but fortunately she toddled off before dusk.
I sat in the setting sun and noted down the varied incidents of the day.
I sat in the opening of my tent enjoying the soothing rustle of the
spring, when what should I see but Takkar himself, who came up to me
anxiously and humbly, made the most expressive gestures, put his head on
one side and began to paw my arm. I looked at him and he looked at me,
and at last we understood each other.
"I could not know," he said, "that you were nice men when you tied me by
the neck to this horrible tent pole. I thought that you would tease and
torment and starve me, and throw stones and dirt at me, as the Tibetans
have done ever since I can remember. But I see that you are well
disposed towards me, and give me two good meals of mutton every day. I
know that you, in spite of your rags, are a bombo-chimbo, and that Abdul
Kerim is only a servant. Be at ease, I will not let any one come near
your tent; I will watch over you at night, I will never betray you, I
will follow you everywhere; you may trust in me. But now come and play
with me a little; take away this useless tent pole, and let us be no
longer strangers."
His shrewd brown eyes showed plainly that this was what he meant to say,
word for word. I took his shaggy head in my arms and squeezed it. Then
he jumped up on me and began to dance and yelp with joy, and enticed me
out of my tent. Then I took hold of him again, untied the knots, and
released him from his pole, to the great astonishment of my men, who
were sitting in the open around a fire. No one had ever ventured so near
to Takkar, except Little Puppy, and without the slightest jealousy the
little cub joined in the game, which henceforth whiled away daily a
couple of hours of my weary captivity.