THE SEVENTH CROSSING OF THE TRANS-HIMALAYA--TO THE HEAVENLY LAKE OF THE
THRONE MOUNTAIN
Twenty-nine degrees of frost on the night of May 8. Winter instead of
spring might be coming. A month ago it was much warmer in Bongba. But
now we are mounting up to the heights of the Trans-Himalaya, the weather
is cold, raw, and windy, the temperature seldom above freezing-point,
and to-day the whole country is again buried in snow.
[Illustration: 359. Village below Lunkar-gompa on the Tarok-tso.]
[Illustration: 360. Mendong Monastery west of the Teri-nam-tso.]
[Illustration: 361. Selipuk Monastery south-west of the Nganglaring-tso.
Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]
[Illustration: 362. Holiday Costumes and Ornaments of Tibetan Women of
Kyangrang in the Trans-Himalaya.
Water-colour Sketches by the Author.]
We ride northwards and descend from a small saddle to the
Chaktak-tsangpo, near which we have to halt a while to warm ourselves at
a fire. The river bends to the west-south-west to break through
Kanchung-gangri. On its bank is seen a tent, eight horses, and a hundred
sheep. Panchor went off to-day to stalk a herd of ninety wild yaks, and
Nima Tashi, the captain of the bodyguard, was sure that a robber band
was in the tent, for no nomads are seen in this cold country. The
escort, particularly Nima Tashi, were dreadfully afraid of robbers; and
Panchor had told us that we could make them go anywhere by frightening
the soldiers with robbers. When Panchor appeared again, he said that the
suspected tent was really inhabited by the band which had the murder in
Rukyok on its conscience, and he added that if the people in Rukyok
would not let the matter rest, the band threatened to commit new crimes
in the country. I asked why the authorities did not seize the chief now
when he was so near, but Panchor shook his head and said that if he was
taken and killed, thirty others would be down on the country, and that
would be worse. A bandit's life in Tibet is on the whole a very
pleasant one.
Following the stream upwards we came to the small lake Lapchung-tso,
entirely covered with ice, and set up camp 401 (17,037 feet) on its
eastern shore. It is enclosed among hills and surrounded on all sides by
lofty mountains. To the south Kanchung-gangri appears in all its
splendour. The snow is much more abundant on its northern than on its
southern side, and in the hollows between its summits three large and
several small glaciers, short and steep, are seen. From all the valleys
on the north, north-west, and north-east brooks descend to the
Lapchung-tso, and from the southern extremity of the lake the
Chaktak-tsangpo issues, and a little distance farther south-west breaks
through Kanchung-gangri.
May 9. -0.9° at this time of year! We move north-eastwards along the
eastern shore of Lapchung-tso, and follow a well-beaten road consisting
of quite fifty parallel paths. It is very interesting to draw another
line on the map of Tibet through a part unknown before. Here travel the
merchants whose destination is east Bongba and Chokchu, and here passes
a large part of the salt traffic from Tabie-tsaka, as well as pilgrims
on their way home from Kang-rinpoche. The last usually follow the
_tasam_ on their outward journey, but return by the northern route--this
is, that the whole pilgrimage may make a _kore_ or a loop of salvation.
Our direction becomes now more northerly and we go up the Sangmo-bertik
valley, where the bottom is filled with ice clear as glass, but there is
good pasturage on the flanks. The country is quite flat between
Kanchung-gangri and the main crest of the Trans-Himalaya. In the
longitudinal valley between the two we see to the north, 60° W., the
comparatively low saddle Dicha-la, which is, however, a watershed of the
first rank, for it parts the water flowing to the ocean from the
isolated drainage of the plateau. Over the Dicha-la runs the lately
mentioned road to the Buptsang-tsangpo and Tabie-tsaka. North,
north-west, and north-east are several _gangris_ with firn-fields and
snow, all belonging to the main range of the Trans-Himalaya. To the
east lies a pass, the Nakbo-kongdo-la, with the Nakbo-gongrong-gangri;
over this pass, which also seems to lie on the main watershed, a road
runs to Targo-gangri and Dangra-yum-tso. Between Raga-tasam and Ombo a
road crosses the Tsalam-nakta-la, mostly frequented by salt caravans.
From camp 402 we could still see Chomo-uchong to the south, 13° E.
A member of the robber band we saw the day before paid us a visit and
was evidently an old friend of Panchor. He gave us many interesting
details of the Teri-nam-tso and Mendong-gompa, which were afterwards
found to be perfectly correct. I never could make out Panchor. Either he
was in league with the devil himself, or he was a fully fledged knave at
his own risk and reckoning. He now assured me that it would be the
easiest thing in the world to take me to the Teri-nam-tso and perhaps
also to the Dangra-yum-tso. O gods of Naktsang, slumber in this cold
spring and do not warn your earthly vassals until it is too late! Yes,
if I could only contrive to cross the Trans-Himalaya twice more, I would
then willingly leave this mighty range to rest a thousand years under a
veil of clouds and glittering snowfields. It is strange that this wide
country, so near to the Indian frontier, should have remained absolutely
unknown till our late times. I am proud and delighted to know that I am
the first white man to penetrate to this wilderness.
Panchor advised us to stay a day in the valley, for we should not find
pasture as good as here for a long time. I wondered how he could know
that, seeing that he had said recently that he had never been north of
the Sangmo-bertik-la.
On the night of May 11 the thermometer fell to 3°. We found ourselves in
a great enlargement of the Trans-Himalaya called Lap, and this region is
noted for its severe climate. Even in the middle of summer, when it is
warm everywhere else, it is cold in Lap. The ice breaks up on
Lapchung-tso only in the beginning of June after all the other ice is
melted. From the map it is seen that many considerable rivers, flowing
north and south, take their rise in this lofty swell.
[Illustration: 363. CROSSING THE KANGSHAM RIVER.]
The day's march took us up to higher ground, and the way was
dreadful--not a road at all, but a track winding among granite boulders
and yak-moss. And next day it was still worse. In raw wintry weather,
with a temperature of 1.2°, we wound up the ascent extremely slowly,
where all small and loose material had been removed, so that the animals
might at any moment break their legs among the stones. Here no other
vegetation was seen but a moss, yellow as the yolk of an egg, and
another shading into red. On the left we passed three small glaciers
with a blue tinge on their fronts. By one of them some wild yaks walked
meditatively. The weather was so cold that we had to stop frequently to
warm our hands at a small dung fire. Panchor insisted strongly on these
halts "in order that the Bombo may not be tired"; but I suspect it was
chiefly because he wanted a puff from his Chinese _gansa_.
Though it was a great struggle for our horses, we came at last to the
Sangmo-bertik-la, at the giddy height of 19,094 feet, and now I stood
for the seventh time on the main crest of the Trans-Himalaya and the
watershed of the great Indian rivers. The view was closed in on all
sides and limited by adjacent heights. On a sharp ridge to the
north-west seven yaks were tramping in the snow. Panchor and one of the
soldiers went on foot in pursuit of them--to mount these steep hills on
foot and carry heavy, clumsy guns is tough work. We rode on among the
granite boulders; lower down green porphyry begins. The gradient became
more gentle, and where we encamped we could scarcely perceive in which
direction the valley sloped.
The day had been stormy, and the blast continued on May 13. Little Puppy
went out to look at the morning, but crept back again and lay on his
mat. Takkar was still irreconcilable towards his countrymen, the
Tibetans, and inspired the greatest respect in all the escort and
Panchor. We rode on through the valley northwards, past numerous summer
camping-grounds, and recognized the characteristic low relief of
Chang-tang in contrast to the more deeply excavated valleys on the
southern side of the Trans-Himalaya. At the mouth of a side-valley
running in from the west the escort came to a halt, and Nima Tashi
explained that our road to Buptö, where we had agreed to meet Abdul
Kerim's party, ran up this valley, and that they did not intend to go
farther north. They now showed their teeth for the first time, and were
not so pliant as we thought. They excused themselves on the ground that
their yaks were tired, that their provisions were at an end, and that
they had no orders to accompany us more than fourteen days. Panchor, the
scoundrel, took their part, and frightened us with the chief of
Bongba-chushar, who took tribute from all the robbers of the country,
and would certainly plunder us if we passed through his domain. After
long consideration we decided to camp where we were, to thoroughly
discuss the situation. Before the sun had set I had won them over,
though it was chiefly the chink of silver rupees which made them forget
all their scruples. It was agreed that they should receive their 20
rupees every evening, and I gave them a goat in addition, as their
supply of meat was at an end.
So on May 14 we rode farther north in blinding snow, and passed numerous
_manis_, nine standing in one row. The valley became more open, and was
more than a mile broad. We found no water at the camp, but two of our
yaks were laden with blocks of ice. Every evening we sat an hour
conversing with Panchor, and it was easy to check his statements. I told
him once and for all, that if he did not speak the truth he would
receive no extra gratuity. In the evening he declared that there were
dreadful apparitions at Muhamed Isa's grave, and that at night fearful
shrieks and groans could be heard from beneath. He was quite convinced
that spirits and demons haunted the grave, and said that no Tibetan
ventured to go near the place; this was well, for consequently the grave
would not be desecrated.
[Illustration: 364. THE VILLAGE OF LUNKAR.]
[Illustration: 365. GROUP OF TIBETANS AT THE TERI-NAM-TSO.]
He gave me also much valuable information about the country round
Nam-tso or Tengri-nor, where he was born. He had gone twice round
Nam-tso, thrice round Tso-mavang, and twelve times round Kang-rinpoche,
which he intended to visit again soon, to complete the thirteenth
circuit of salvation. He considered it superfluous to make the
circuit of Dangra-yum-tso and Targo-gangri, for he had already tramped
so far that all his sins must be forgiven, and he was sure of promotion
in the next incarnation. Panchor had not the slightest doubt that a man
or horse which had drunk of the water of Tso-mavang or Nam-tso was for
ever immune from illness, robbers, and wolves. "It is just as though a
fire blazed out of that part of the body where the wolf intends to seize
him," he affirmed. But he considerably modified his statements after I
had told him that we had a mule which had drunk for a whole month of the
water of Tso-mavang and yet had been torn in pieces by wolves at Gartok.
"Yes," he replied, "the protection is only for Tibetans and their
animals, not for Europeans and their animals. And if the wolf itself
drank of the holy water it would avail nothing; he would still seize his
prey."
On the 15th of May we set out again in a snowstorm, whereas I had been
looking forward ever since January to spring. It caused great merriment,
both among the Tibetans and the Ladakis, when one of the escort who did
not know Kunchuk's name, spoke of him as "that there calf." We had
travelled a good long way before they ceased to laugh at the newly
invented title, which stuck to Kunchuk ever after.
The valley opens out on to a plain where kiangs, Goa and Pantholops
antelopes are plentiful. From the ridge of a hill we see to the east
another still larger plain, beyond which Targo-gangri would be visible
if the mountain were not shrouded in clouds and falling snow. Buchu-tso
is a small pool which dries up in summer. There lay three black tents,
and beyond another hill in the locality Kangmar, seven. When we
encamped, sixty men, women, and children came out and watched us. They
had gathered together here to pay their taxes to a collector from Saka.
The district is called Bongba-chushar, and the elderly Gova came to
visit us. He was a discreet man and put no awkward questions. Panchor,
who was accustomed to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, had
probably given him an account of us beforehand. It seems he was
terribly frightened, for he had never in his life seen a European.
However, he gave us much valuable information about the country, among
other things, that the little twin lakes Mun-tso lay to the north of the
Barong-la and east of the Teri-nam-tso, not south of the Dangra-yum-tso
as on Nain Sing's map, which I had myself found to be incorrect. On the
way to the Teri-nam-tso we should be able in two places to steal goose
eggs; it was forbidden to the Tibetans for three years to take them, but
a European could permit himself anything without having to answer for it
to the gods of heaven and earth.
After a day's rest we marched north-north-east to the broad longitudinal
valley of Soma-tsangpo. The river descends from the east-south-east, and
probably has its source in the great mountain system we saw from the
Shuru-tso. Here it runs west-north-west, but afterwards turns north and
north-eastwards, and therefore makes a sharp curve before it enters the
Teri-nam-tso. Its bed is flat and shallow, and at the time carried down
about 280 cubic feet of water per second, but it is so full in summer
that sometimes it cannot be forded. We camped at a spring in a valley at
the farther side, and on May 18 ascended the adjacent pass, Dongchen-la,
and on its south slopes twenty-four Ovis Ammon sheep were a fine sight.
On the night of the 19th, the minimum temperature was 29.5°, and now it
felt as if spring were really come, or even summer. The way ran
north-west up a steep valley, where granite and dark schists were twice
observed _in situ_, to the small pass Teta-la (16,266 feet), where we
had at length a free view over the longed-for lake Teri-nam-tso, Nain
Sing's Tede-nam-tso, which he never visited nor saw, but only heard of,
and inserted with a broken line quite correctly on his map. The only
mistake he made was to draw the lake longer from north to south instead
of from east to west.
To obtain an uninterrupted view we climbed up a height on the north side
of the pass (16,972 feet). The scene here displayed in all directions
was one of the grandest and most memorable tableaus I have seen in
Tibet. The "heavenly lake" lay like a great flat-cut turquoise framed
in mountains and hills shaded in pink, red, yellow, and purple, which,
towards the horizon, gradually passed into a light blue veil. Only to
the south-east quadrant is the view obstructed by adjacent heights
belonging to the chain on the crest of which we stand, and which runs
along the southern shore of the lake, but elsewhere the view is open,
dizzy, boundless, and the eyes scan both Sha-kangsham's majestic peak
and Targo-gangri's many-headed ridge, and the seven-times-mounted main
range of the Trans-Himalaya, with its snow-crowned heights rising in a
row of bright white domes to the south. Many other peaks and domes with
eternal snow rise over this sea of tumbled waves, but, after all, the
finest sight is the lake itself, which charms and fascinates the
spectator by its intense ultramarine hue, a couple of shades deeper and
stronger than turquoise. When one first comes to the saddle of the pass
and this wealth of colouring strikes the retina, one can scarcely
restrain an exclamation of astonishment and admiration. We look down
straight on the lake, and its southern shore is just below us. To the
west it extends for two days' journey, and widens out enormously, while
to the east it contracts and seems to stretch a good day's journey. Due
north-east the blue surface is broken by a steep rocky islet, with a
level shore only in the east, and further east one fancies one can
detect the hollow where the basin of the Dangra-yum-tso skirts the
northern foot of the divine Targo-gangri mountain.
Beautiful weather, not a cloud on the blue vault of heaven, calm and
quiet, only the gentlest whisper over the hills sounding in the ears
like the tinkle of small bells and the vibration of strings. One feels
overwhelmed by this grand beauty, which speaks more powerfully to the
senses than the high mass of any archbishop. I stood several hours up
here and made a hopeless attempt to sketch the landscape, but succeeded
in producing only a feeble imitation of the reality. From the Teta-la
one commands a very considerable area of the heart of Tibet. How
extensive is the line of Sha-kangsham! How many are the points from
which I have viewed this wonderful mountain on different journeys! Like
a gigantic beacon, a marvellous landmark, it raises its snow-covered
dome above desolate Tibet. And we were far from its dripping glaciers
when for the last time it sank below the horizon like a dream of snow
and roses.
At last we had to drag ourselves away and follow the track of the other
men to a little dreary valley where they had encamped near a couple of
tents. Even here the view was remarkable. How I now missed my old tried
boat, and how gladly I would have glided with sail and oar over the
heavenly lake!
[Illustration: 366. THE VILLAGE OF LUNKAR FROM THE TEMPLE HILL.]
[Illustration: 367. THE SOUTHERN SHORE OF MANASAROWAR WITH GRAZING
YAKS.]
We remained four whole days at this miserable camp with its fine view
(15,646 feet). The fact was that Dangra-yum-tso now for the fourth time
began to haunt my dreams, and as the holy lake was only four days'
journey to the east, I would try to reach its shore. But Nima Tashi and
Panchor put all kinds of difficulties in the way: their yaks would
perish where there was no grazing, and it was impossible to hire yaks,
for all had lately gone to Tabie-tsaka for salt. I proposed to go on my
own horses and meet them at Mendong-gompa after the excursion, and to
this they made no objection at first. If I had not been by this time
heartily sick of Tibet, I would have played them a pretty trick, and
gone not only to Dangra-yum-tso, but further eastwards until I was
stopped. But I was weary of geography, discoveries, and adventures, and
wanted to get home. And besides, on comparing the lands east and west of
the Teri-nam-tso, I considered the latter far better worth visiting. The
former I had traversed by three routes, and two other travellers had
been there, but no one had been in the west, and we knew nothing about
it except the uncertain data which the Jesuits had gathered from the
natives two hundred years ago. In fact this land was the least known
part of Tibet, and the road to the Nganglaring-tso crosses the blank
patch in its longer direction. If the authorities had asked me which way
I would choose, I should have answered, the way to the Nganglaring-tso.
It would have been wisest to close at once with Nima Tashi's suggestion
to go straight to Mendong-gompa. But their opposition egged me on to
break another lance for Dangra-yum-tso. I ought to have remembered that
he who grasps at all loses all, for I was within an ace of losing
Mendong-gompa into the bargain.
For when Nima Tashi saw that he could not make me give way, he secretly
sent a message to Tagla Tsering, the chief of Sangge-ngamo-buk, the
district we were in and which is subject to Naktsang. And Tagla Tsering
came. Last year he had been in Lundup's train when the latter had
stopped us at the foot of Targo-gangri and prevented us from going to
the shore of the holy lake. Now he looked very grand and important. Over
a mantle of panther skin he wore a belt of six bright silver _gaos_, and
in the belt was stuck a sword with a silver scabbard inlaid with
turquoise and coral, and at his side rattled knives and other pendent
articles. Over all, he wore a long reddish-violet mantle, and on his
head a Chinese silk cap. He was accompanied by six horsemen, and, the
day after, twenty more arrived, all armed to the teeth with guns,
swords, and lances; all in picturesque bright-coloured costumes, some
with tall brimmed hats on their heads, others with bandages round their
foreheads, Tagla Tsering evidently took the matter seriously, and tried
to get over me by talking of raising the militia (Illust. 329).
The powerful chief meanwhile entered my tent, friendly and pleased, and,
like an old friend, bade me heartily welcome, and expressed his great
astonishment that I had come back again, though I had been forced the
year before to turn back. Had I not already brought about Hlaje
Tsering's fall, and would I cause the new Governor of Naktsang to meet
the same fate? Or what did I mean?
"No, Hedin Sahib, you cannot travel to Naktsang. Turn to the west. Nima
Tashi had no authority to lead you even to the Teri-nam-tso; it was on
the Buptsang-tsangpo you were to meet the caravan. You talk of
Mendong-gompa. You have no right to travel thither. There is a nearer
way to the rendezvous. Mendong-gompa does not lie in my district, but
all the same I have sent written notices to all the govas in the country
to stop you if you travel to the monastery."
Poor Nima Tashi was half dead with fright. He had thought to frighten
me, but now he saw that the chief and I sat together like old friends,
drinking tea and smoking cigarettes, while he was reprimanded for
bringing me too far. I told him afterwards that he was a noodle, and if
he now got into trouble in Saka it was his own fault. Tagla Tsering's
good humour was much enhanced when I promised to turn back and conform
to the arrangements of the chiefs on the way to Mendong, if by any
chance I was prevented from approaching the convent.
We said farewell on May 24, and continued our journey westwards along
the southern shore of the lake. The water is salt and has an extremely
unpleasant taste, and cannot be drunk in any circumstances. Lamlung-la
(16,880 feet) is a commanding pass, which must be crossed to cut off a
peninsula. The rocks are granite and green schist. Hares and wild-geese
are very plentiful. Here and there are freshwater lagoons on the shore,
which forms a very narrow belt at the foot of the mountains. The
northern shore belt seems to be much broader. We followed the southern
shore another day to the spring Tertsi at the western extremity of the
lake, which forms a large regular expansion.
I heard the name of this lovely lake variously pronounced by different
nomads. Nain Sing's Tede-nam-tso is incorrect. The Gova of Kangmar
insisted that Tsari-nam-tso was the correct pronunciation, and said that
the name was bestowed because _ri di tsa-la tso yore_, that is, "The
lake situated at the foot of the mountain." The nomads on the shore,
however, said Tiri- or Teri-nam-tso. At our camp 411 were two small
mountains on the shore, called Techen and Techung, or the Great and
Little Te, or more correctly Ti. _Ti_ is a lama's throne in a temple,
_ri_ signifies mountain, _nam_ heaven, and _tso_ lake. The whole name
therefore has the poetical meaning of the Throne-mountain's Heavenly
Lake. Its height above sea-level is 15,367 feet, or 413 feet lower than
Mont Blanc, which, if it lifted up its head from the turquoise billows
of the lake, would look like the small rocky islet in its eastern half.