Once more in Katmandu.
After procuring my passport, escorted by the policeman, I came back
to a village called Simla where I had left my carrier and carriage. I
found that the carriage and its driver had absconded in my absence: it
had been paid for in advance. The policeman wanted to beat my carrier
for allowing the driver to abscond; but I interfered. It was then after
three in the afternoon, and my route to Khātmāndu lay for eight miles
at least through the jungle. I was warned about tigers; but I knew the
route, as I was going over it for a second time, and forthwith I set
out on the road.
Every two miles, through the eight miles of the jungle, is a large
reservoir of drinking water, each reservoir being connected with the
one next to it by means of iron ducts. Originally not a drop of water
was obtainable in the jungle, and the ducts and reservoirs were built
in compliance with the dying wish of the late Queen of Nepāl, who in
that way wanted to benefit the travelling public. One reads the origin
and history of this benevolent institution engraved on stone tablets,
set up on the roadside; the language used on one being Nepālese, on
another Tibetan, on the third English, then Hinḍū and Parsī.
Before night came on I arrived at Bichagori, where on the occasion of
my former visit I heard a tiger break the midnight silence with his
roars. I felt rather lonely on account of the absence of his roaring
now, and I made an _uta_:
The same as once before the moonlight sleeps
On Bichagori fair; but whence is heard
Upon the stream the savage tiger’s roar?
Crossing the Bichagori river, I travelled to Spalta, from Spalta to
Bahise, thence to Binbit and Tispanī during the next two days. Tispanī
is also known by the alternative name of Tisgari, which, I think, was
the one I mentioned before. Between Simla and Tispanī I had my passport
examined three times. Tispanī maintains a custom-house and all ordinary
ingoing travellers are detained here at least half a day. The case was
different with me: my stop here lasted no longer than half an hour.
My police-escort took leave of me here and his place was taken by a
soldier, who thenceforth accompanied me to Kātmāndu.
As we reached the top of Tisgari, I once more stood an all-absorbed
admirer, struck by the wondrous grandeur of the Himālayas, which, seen
a second time, appeared to increase instead of diminish in their fresh
majesty and charms.
To fitly paint the grandeur of the scenes
Words fail me quite; what can I, helpless, do?
These scenic beauties on the Himal’yan range
E’en human eyesight fails to comprehend.
Thousands of years ago, Shākyamuni Buḍḍha, our Lord, spent six years in
the jungles and mountains, and I imagined that I was possibly treading
in His holy footsteps. I had spent the same number of years under the
shadows of the Himālayas, but neither had I attained Nirvāṇa, nor
become a Boḍhisaṭṭva!
_Yuki yama-ni mutose heshi mino ikani-shite
Akatsuki-no Hoshi-ni awade sugoseshi?_
Upon these plateaux six years have I passed
But yet Illumination’s Morning Star
Have I not seen--the Star that flashed so bright
At that Illumination of our Lord,
The Holy Saint under the Bodhi tree.[5]
[5] The Gospel teaches that the Buḍḍha attained His enlightenment as
He sat gazing up to the “Morning Star” on His last night of meditation
under the sacred bodhi tree.
We next made a sharp descent of about three miles past the village of
Kurikane and an iron bridge, and entered Marku, where we lodged for
the night. Starting at three o’clock on the 21st we calculated upon
reaching Kātmāndu by the evening. The weird serenity of the great
mountain pass under the starry heavens of the early morning; the
bracing chill, the gradual revelation of the scenery around under the
rising sun, the famous rhododendron flowers almost in bloom, the climb
of Chandragiri, the vast plain at the height of six thousand feet above
the sea level--all the sights and scenes, awe-inspiring, entrancing and
interesting--were there as on the occasion of my former visit.
Arrived in Kātmāndu, I at once proceeded to the official residence of
the Local Commander-in-Chief and Acting Prime Minister. His Excellency
was too busy to see me that evening, and sent me word asking to come
the next day. In the place of the one that had accompanied me to
Kātmāndu two fresh bodyguards were then given to me. Such being the
case, my arrival in the town had apparently become known to my old
friend of four years ago Lama Buḍḍha Vajra; for, as I came out of the
Commander-in-Chief’s residence, I was met by one of my friend’s sons
and some servants with a horse. I at once rode to the Kāṣyapa Buḍḍha
Tower and there renewed my friendship with its master, who, it will
be superfluous to say, received me with a right royal welcome and
placed me under fresh obligations by his great hospitality. I may add,
however, that the Nepālese custom is almost the reverse of that of
Tibet, in that all those who can afford to do so marry two, three, even
five wives. My friend, though a Lama, but belonging to the Old School,
has two wives and thirteen children.
[Illustration: MEETING AGAIN WITH AN OLD FRIEND LAMA BUDDHA VAJRA.]
I considered it a rare privilege to pass a night in a place of such
holiness, and availing myself of the opportunity I spent the best part
of the night in lighting up the butter-lamp and holding a service
in memory of my father and friends, who had died at home during my
absence. The next morning I saw the sun rising from the snows and felt
the emotions which are embodied in the following _uta_.
In Japan was I born, my native land
Of cherry flowers fair, the cheerful home
Of birds e’er singing their melodious songs.
It is for this am I inspired to sing
Of that bright light reflected from the snows?
That afternoon at one o’ clock, accompanied by my friend, I called on
His Excellency Bheem Shamsher, the Commander-in-Chief of Nepāl. We were
shown into the reception hall in the second floor of the building, in
which I found fourteen or fifteen chairs of Western style, while the
upper half of the floor was covered over with a rectangular piece of
thick Nepālese carpet, with a layer of white cloth over it. On the
walls of the room I noticed a number of pictures in occidental frames.
Trifling as these details may appear, I mention them here, because the
use side by side of native and western articles indicates the general
features of the national policy of Nepāl.
[Illustration: THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF NEPAL, H. E. BHIM SHAMSIR.]