A Foretaste of distressing Experiences.
After parting with the Kham bonze, I had not proceeded far before I
began to feel a shortness of breath which increased in intensity as I
went along, and was followed by nausea of an acute type. I made a halt,
took down my luggage (which, by the way, had by this time produced very
painful bruises on my back) and then took a dose of _hotan_--a soothing
restorative. The result was that I brought up a good mouthful of
blood. Not being subject to heart disease, I concluded that I had been
affected by the rarity of the atmosphere. I think, as I thought then,
that our lung-capacity is only about one-half of that of the native
Tibetan. Be this as it may, I felt considerable alarm at this, my first
experience of internal hemorrhage, and thought it would be ill-advised
to continue my journey that day. I had made only eight miles, five up
and three down, over undulating land; but I was so greatly fatigued
that, without courage enough to go and search for yak-dung, I fell fast
asleep the moment I laid me down for a rest. I do not know how long
I had slept, when something pattering on my face awoke me. As soon
as I realised that I was lying under a heavy shower of large-sized
hail-stones, I tried to rise, but I could not; for my body literally
cracked and ached all over, as if I had been prostrated with a severe
attack of rheumatism. With a great effort I raised myself to a sitting
posture and endeavored to calm myself. After a while my pulse became
nearly normal and my breathing easier, and I knew that I was not yet to
die. But the general aching of the body did not abate at all, and it
was out of the question for me to resume the journey then, or to go
dung-gathering. Apparently there were some hours of night yet left, so
I went into the ‘meditation exercise,’ sitting upon a piece of sheep’s
hide and wrapped up in the _tuk-tuk_, a sort of native bed-quilt
weighing about twenty-five pounds, and made of thick sail-cloth lined
with sheep’s wool. Sleep was no more possible. As I looked up and
around, I saw the bright moon high above me, the uncertain shapes of
distant lofty peaks forming a most weird back-ground against the vast
sea of undulating plain. Alone upon one of the highest places in the
world, surrounded by mysterious uncertainty, made doubly so by the
paleness of the moonlight, both the scene and the situation would have
furnished me with enough matter for my soul’s musings, but, alas! for
my bodily pains. Yet the wild weirdness of the view was not altogether
lost on me, and I was gradually entering into the state of spiritual
conquest over bodily ailment, when I recalled the celebrated _uta_ of
that ancient divine of Japan, Daito Kokushi:
On Shijyo Gojyo Bridge, a thoroughfare,
I sit in silence holy undisturbed,
The passing crowds of men and damsels fair,
I look upon as waving sylvan trees.
In reply to this I composed the following:
On grass among those lofty plains on earth,
I enter meditation deep and wide,
I choose, nor such secluded mountain-trees,
Nor passing crowds of men and damsels fair.
I was almost in an extatic state, forgetful of all my pain, when
another _uta_ rose to my mind:
O Mind! By Dharma’s genial light and warmth
The pain-inflicting snows are melted fast,
And flow in rushing streams that sweep away
Delusive Ego and Non-Ego both.
Thus in meditation I sat out the night, and when the morning came I
breakfasted on some dried grapes. I felt much refreshed both in mind
and body, and made good progress on my journey that morning.
Coming to a small clear stream, I went through the process of
fire-making and tea-preparing, and then took a meal of baked flour.
Crossing the stream and then mounting an elevation, I saw far in front
of me one white and several black tents pitched in the plain. The sight
of a white tent puzzled me a good deal. Tibetan tent-cloth is almost
always dark in color, the natives weaving the stuff with yak’s hair,
which they first take between their teeth, draw out and twist into a
yarn between their fingers, putting it on to the loom when a sufficient
quantity of coarse thread has thus been obtained. I could not solve the
mystery; but it mattered little after all to me then; I only wanted to
reach the tents as quickly as possible, and to be allowed a few days’
rest there. I had walked about five miles, and the last mile or so
brought back on me the now chronic trouble, the pain of fatigue and
shortness of breath. When, somehow, I had managed to drag myself along
to the threshold of the largest of the tents, the welcome I received
was in the shape of five or six ferocious-looking native dogs, and it
was a right hot reception, to appreciate which I had to put all my
remaining energy into the gentle warning of my staff.