The Final Gate Passed.
I handed over to my servant the note received from the supervisor of
the fifth guard-house.
“Take the note to Tomo-Rinchen-gang,” said I to the servant privately;
“you must get two notes there instead; but in Pimbithang, if it
requires a long time to get one, go to the wife of the Chinese military
officer, and rely on her; she will manage the matter exactly as we
want.”
“That he gave it so soon,” said he, somewhat surprised, “was almost
like a dream. If you do not go with me, I shall never get consent from
Tomo-Rinchen-gang.”
“I thought so too,” said I, “but when I told the supervisor so, he told
me that as everything is mentioned in this note, it is certain that the
Chief of Tomo-Rinchen-gang will write a note to be sent to Pimbithang.
He also said that I need not go there but should send the servant
there, and myself wait here.”
The servant then, after receiving from me a note stamped with the seal
of the supervisor, went back to Tomo-Rinchen-gang as fast as he could.
On arriving there, he presented the note to the chief, and waited for
a while. As the special instruction from the supervisor was mentioned
on it, he at once made the two copies and gave them to the servant,
who took them, and again went back two miles further to Pimbithang, to
receive one written in Chinese characters.
As the time was about half past one when the servant arrived there,
the keeper declined to give him a note. Consequently, according to my
instructions, he went to the house of the Chinese military officer
and requested his wife to obtain the immediate delivery of the note
he needed. She, without any hesitation, ran to the guard-house to see
her husband, and told him to give it at once. When he told her that
it was too late to give one and that he must wait till the next day,
she lost her temper and exposed the true character of a Tibetan woman.
Whereupon, the henpecked husband yielded to her demands and gave a
note to the servant, who came back with it about four o’clock in the
afternoon.
Rain was falling that day, and though I had thought of stopping a night
there, it was better for us to depart if possible. If we left there and
walked about half a day we should enter British India.
“To-day is rainy and walking is hard,” said the supervisor, “and
furthermore, the distance from here to Nakthang is somewhat great,
there being no inn on the way. But if you walk for about eight miles,
there is one house; and it would be a good plan for you to stop there
to-night. By doing so, to-morrow you may easily go to Nakthang; but if
not, even if you start from here at three o’clock in the morning, it
would be impossible to get there; I advise you therefore, though it is
troublesome, to start from here to-day, since you have very important
business to perform.”
“I am very tired to-day,” said I, “so I should like to stop here
to-night. Is it possible for me to arrive at Nakthang if I leave
to-morrow?”
“It is utterly impossible,” replied the supervisor somewhat gravely.
“How about going there?” asked I of the servant.
“It is almost impossible for me to walk,” replied the servant, who was
weary and exhausted.
“As the servant of a master who has urgent business,” said the
supervisor, in a somewhat scolding tone of voice, “it is extremely rude
and impolite to say it is impossible to go.”
“Pardon me,” replied the servant shrinking almost like a rat among
cats, “you are right, Sir.”
Fearing that to stay that night might perhaps become the source of
subsequent evils, I bade farewell to the supervisor and departed.
[Illustration: THE FORTRESS OF NYATONG.]
The Nyatong castle, as shown in the picture, is strong and solid in
structure, yet also magnificent in appearance. Leaving the post-town
Nyatong and descending a little there is a river across which is a
bridge two yards in width. After passing the small bridge and going on
a little, there is a solitary house near which are stationed a number
of Chinese soldiers. I handed over the passport written in Chinese,
which I had received at Pimbithang. One of the soldiers examined it
carefully and permitted us to pass through. As we gradually ascended
the mountain, the rain fell furiously and the ascent became very steep.
The road hereabouts is pretty good, though the place forms the boundary
of Tibet, and does not belong to the British dominion. Most Englishmen
who are at present in Nyatong live on land rented from Tibet.
Ascending about two miles up the steep slope thickly grown with trees,
it became dark, and then the servant commenced to complain.
“There are a great many lodging houses,” he grumbled “besides the
supervisor’s. Can we not lodge somewhere to get out of such rain? I
can’t move a step on account of the heavy luggage.”
“I will carry half of your burden,” said I, somewhat moved by his
difficulties. I consoled him with great trouble and made him move
on till eight o’clock in the evening; even then the distance to the
solitary house was two miles more and he told me that he was unable
to move even a step. Just at that point a small tent was pitched, and
someone had a fire inside. Around the tent many mules were grazing, for
mules are used by the people of Tomo-Rinchen-gang to convey wool to
Kalenpong. I stepped into the tent and asked the man inside to lodge
us. He declined my request, saying that the five of his party could
hardly sleep in the small tent and no space was left for us too. But
as my servant sat down on the ground and would not move, we at last
succeeded in getting into the small tent.
It was so small in extent that we could not lie down and I was obliged
to sit upright the whole night. While thus meditating I was almost
overwhelmed by my feelings.
To pass through that succession of five strict and vigilant
guard-houses in only three days must have been miraculous. Even a
Tibetan merchant accustomed to travel through there many times is
obliged to spend at least seven or eight days in passing them. In
spite of the rain, too, to pass through them safely in three days
and come to that place--it seemed indeed miraculous. No chief of any
guard-house had had any suspicion about me; even that shrewd and
penetrating supervisor who had lived in India for twenty years of
toil and hardship, not only did not suspect my mind and motive, but
refrained from argument, bowed his head low, and sent me out the same
day I arrived. This must have been entirely owing to the grace of
the protection of our Holy Lord Buḍḍha; shedding tears of gratitude
on account of it, I read the sacred books and passed the whole night
without sleeping.