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[Illustration: Montagu S. Wellby]
THROUGH
UNKNOWN TIBET
BY M. S. WELLBY
Capt. 18th Hussars
[Illustration: The Kushok's Cook.]
ILLUSTRATED
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN
PATERNOSTER SQUARE. 1898
[All rights reserved]
TO
OUR BROTHER OFFICERS
PREFACE.
In publishing the following account of a journey across Tibet and China,
it has been my object to describe in a simple manner all that I did and
saw from beginning to end, in the hope that some future traveller may
learn, not so much what he ought to do, as what he ought not to do.
Those who have experienced the charms of a nomad's life, will, I trust,
be once more reminded of happy days of freedom, will sympathise with
us in our difficulties, and share the pleasures which they alone can
appreciate. Should others, by chance, find some little interest in
perusing these pages, and be tempted to taste for themselves the sweets
of wandering through little known lands, they will be recompensed for
doing so, and I shall have found my reward.
To those who patiently read to the end and close the book with a
feeling of disappointment, I would appeal for leniency. Begun as it
was at Lucknow, amid the distractions of polo, racing, and field-days,
continued at Simla, India's summer capital, and finished in the wilds
of Waziristan, it can lay no claim to literary or scientific merit, but
only to being a plain story plainly told; and as such I give it to the
public.
For the chapter on the Mohammedan rebellion in China, my thanks are
due to my friend Mr. Ridley, of the "China Inland Mission," who lived
in the very midst of the scene of trouble, and who kindly allowed me
to make every use of his notes. They are likewise due to Sir Claude
and Lady Macdonald, whose kindness and hospitality in Pekin can never
be forgotten, and lastly, to those three faithful ones who stuck to us
through thick and thin.
The names of Duffadar Shahzad Mir, Lassoo, and Esa Tsareng—known
throughout as "Esau"—will always call to my mind three men without whom
this journey could never have been accomplished, and in saying this
I know that I am also expressing the feelings of my companion, Lieut.
Malcolm.
M. S. WELLBY,
Capt. 18th Hussars.
WAZIRISTAN,
November, 1897.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY—MALCOLM GOES ON AHEAD 1
CHAPTER II.
BALTAL—LEH—I REJOIN MALCOLM—THE CHINESE PASSPORT
ARRIVES 20
CHAPTER III.
FOLLOWING THE INDUS—EGU—WAITING AT SHUSHAL—A WARNING 40
CHAPTER IV.
MUN—LUDHKONG—TOUCHING FRIENDSHIP OF MULE AND PONY—NIAGZU 50
CHAPTER V.
MORTALITY AMONG SHEEP—LAKE TREB—THE NAPU LA PASS—SICKNESS
OF BAKR HADJI—RUDOK OFFICIALS COMMAND US TO RETREAT 60
CHAPTER VI.
OUR RETREAT—CROSSING THE BORDERLAND OF TIBET—A STRANGE
ACCOUCHEMENT—SPORT—PONIES SHOT 74
CHAPTER VII.
A COLD NIGHT—DEATH OF MULE—A FRESH-WATER LAKE—BAD
WEATHER—DEATH OF THE FAVOURITE WHITE PONY—BY A SALT
LAKE—ILLNESS OF TOKHTA—I SEARCH FOR MISSING ANIMALS 81
CHAPTER VIII.
LAKE LIGHTEN—INTENSE HEAT—AN OLD FIREPLACE—SERIOUS
ACCIDENT THROUGH OVER-HASTE OF MULES TO DRINK—A COUP
D'ŒIL—THE FIRST FLOWER—OUR PET SHEEP—ANOTHER FRESH-WATER
LAKE—A PLEASANT BATH—DEATH OF ANIMALS AND DEARTH OF GRAIN 90
CHAPTER IX.
TERRIBLE GUN ACCIDENT—WE SEND OUT SCOUTS 104
CHAPTER X.
I SHOOT A YAK—DEATH OF ANOTHER MULE—"HELMET HILL"—WE
LEAVE TOKHTA AND SULLOO BEHIND—REDUCED TO TWELVE
ANIMALS—A MULE'S ADVENTURE 116
CHAPTER XI.
SHOOTING AN ANTELOPE—SNOW—A MYSTERIOUS TRACK—THE
BED OF AN ANCIENT LAKE—EMOTION OF MAHOMED
RAHIM—VARIABLE WEATHER—MORE ANTELOPES SHOT—THEODOLITE
BROKEN—EXTRAORDINARILY SUDDEN WIND—HUNGER _v._
CEREMONY—NEW FINDS 127
CHAPTER XII.
A FOOTPRINT—SHAHZAD MIR INDISPOSED—DESERTION OF
MULETEERS—A RAINY NIGHT 141
CHAPTER XIII.
RETURN OF THE DESERTERS—SHUKR ALI—LONG MARCHES—DEATH OF
EIGHT MULES AND A PONY—A CHEERING REPAST 152
CHAPTER XIV.
A SERPENTINE RIVER—HUNGER—MARMOTS—A PLEASANT CAMPING 164
CHAPTER XV.
SHOOTING—A TROUBLESOME MULE—A YAK CEMETERY—I CHASE A
KYANG—TENDER HEARTS—INSCRIBED STONES—LASSOO AND SHUKR
ALI SICK—AN ARDUOUS CROSSING 172
CHAPTER XVI.
ANOTHER CHULA—MOUNTAINS—A QUEER ILLUSION—STRANGE
VOICES—WE FIND WE ARE DESCENDING—A TIBETAN CAMP—ESAU SENT
AS AN AMBASSADOR—AN INVITATION 185
CHAPTER XVII.
WE CATCH UP THE MERCHANT'S CAMP—TIBETAN HOSPITALITY—WE
FIND THAT WE HAVE DISCOVERED THE SOURCE OF THE CHU
MA—BARGAINING 195
CHAPTER XVIII.
MANAGEMENT OF THE TIBETAN CARAVAN—TEA WITH THE
MERCHANT—SHUGATZA RIVER—FRICTION—AN ALARM 204
CHAPTER XIX.
WE LEAVE THE KUSHOK—A USELESS CLIMB—SIGNS OF A DISASTROUS
JOURNEY—A HOUSE OF PRAYER—MALCOLM SHOOTS A BEAR—ANXIETY
FOR FOOD 218
CHAPTER XX.
FOLLOWING THE NAMORAN—WE SPLIT INTO THREE PARTIES—WE
MEET SOME YOUNG MONGOLS—THEIR HOSPITALITY—LOBSAN—THE BANA
TRIBES 227
CHAPTER XXI.
WITH THE MONGOLS—A HOSPITABLE OLD LADY—ON THE WAY TO
TANKAR—A POISONOUS STREAM—BANA TENTS—I ABSTRACT AN
INSCRIBED BONE—OUR COLDEST NIGHT—A WONDERFUL PLACE—KANJUR
RUNGYUM 240
CHAPTER XXII.
ESAU AND I SET OFF—RECEPTION FROM THE BANAS—WE ARRIVE AT
TANKAR—A FRIENDLY GUIDE—AN ABSURD TIP—DR. RIJNHART—TEA
WITH LHASSA OFFICIALS—ARRIVAL OF MALCOLM AND THE
MONGOLS—CHEN-LAO-PAN—CHINESE ETIQUETTE 256
CHAPTER XXIII.
A VISIT TO CHEN-LAO-PAN—COLONEL YANG—THE DAUGHTER OF
PRINCE KOKO NOR—A VISIT TO THE MONASTERY OF KUMBUM 267
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE STORY OF THE FIRST BUDDHA OF THE EMPIRE—THE SACRED
TREE—THE GOLD-TILED TEMPLE—PARTING FROM MINA FU-YEH—THE
GREEN GLAZED-TILE TEMPLE—THE FLOWER TEMPLE—SIGNS OF THE
MOHAMMEDAN REBELLION—AT THE MISSION HOUSE 285
CHAPTER XXV.
THE MOHAMMEDAN REBELLION IN CHINA, 1895–6 298
CHAPTER XXVI.
PARTING FROM LOBSAN—STARTING FOR LANCHEO—A RUINED
SUBURB—GOOD DONE BY MISSIONARIES—WE TAKE LEAVE OF MR.
RIDLEY—OUR FIRST CHINESE INN 315
CHAPTER XXVII.
SHANG TAN—HO TSUI TSI—FIRST VIEW OF THE YELLOW RIVER—ON
A RAFT—AT LANCHEO—A TELEGRAPH TROUBLE 325
CHAPTER XXVIII.
WE PAY OFF SHUKR ALI—LANCHEO TO CHONG WEI—OFFICIAL
INCIVILITY—LOSE RUBY—SHAHZAD MIR MISTAKEN FOR A REBEL 332
CHAPTER XXIX.
MISSIONARY YARNS—CHEAP LIVING—ON THE YELLOW RIVER
AGAIN—CASH 352
CHAPTER XXX.
PAO T'EO—THE SWEDISH MISSION-HOUSE—CHINESE
SCHOOLS—CHINESE INNS—CHINESE BURIAL—KUEI HUA
CHENG—FRICTION WITH CARTERS—WE LEAVE THE MONGOL
COUNTRY—THE GREAT WALL 367
CHAPTER XXXI.
HOW TO MANAGE INNKEEPERS AND
CARTERS—SHUEN-HUA-FU—"SPIRIT'S PAPER"—SHAHZAD MIR LOST
AND FOUND—ESAU'S PRESTIGE 386
CHAPTER XXXII.
A TRUCULENT INNKEEPER—A SEDAN CHAIR—CHINESE WOMEN AND
THEIR FEET—PEKIN—DEPARTURE OF RIJNHART—CARTERS EARN A
BEATING 398
CHAPTER XXXIII.
BACK TO INDIA—DISILLUSIONMENT OF OUR FOLLOWERS WITH
REGARD TO SOME OF THE BLESSINGS OF CIVILIZATION—MILITARY
HOSPITALITY—RETURN TO CALCUTTA 415
APPENDICES 423
INDEX 437
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
CAPTAIN WELLBY Frontispiece
THE KUSHOK'S COOK Title
LIEUTENANT MALCOLM Facing 1
CLUB OF NORTHERN INDIA, MURREE, IN SNOW 5
VIEW TOWARDS FIFTH BRIDGE, SRINAGAR 8
A MERCHANT'S HOUSE IN SRINAGAR 9
MOHAMMEDAN MOSQUE, SRINAGAR 11
HINDU TEMPLE, SRINAGAR 12
ON THE RIVER, SRINAGAR 14
DUFFADAR SHAHZAD MIR, 11TH BENGAL LANCERS 15
SHUKR ALI 18
THE GLACIERS, SONAMERG 21
FIRST SIGNS OF BUDDHISM BEYOND LEH, AT MULBECK 25
BRIDGE OVER THE SURV RIVER AT KARGIL, ON THE ROAD TO
LEH. BRIDGE ON CANTILEVER PATTERN 29
SHAHZAD MIR AND OUR TEN MEN 33
CHINESE PASSPORT, ONE AND A HALF FEET SQUARE 37
MY RED CHINESE VISITING CARD, FIVE INCHES BROAD AND TEN
INCHES LONG 38
ON THE BORDERS OF TIBET; OUR CAMP AT NIAGZU 57
CROSSING THE NAPU LA (18,500 FEET HIGH) 64
OUR THREE RUNDORE GUIDES 67
KERAMBUTABUK 71
LAKE "LIGHTEN" (WE LIGHTENED OUR LOADS HERE) 91
17TH JUNE. THREE OF OUR TENTS ARE ABANDONED AT THIS
SPOT 95
WE CAMP IN A GRASSY NULLAH 98
A DAY'S HALT BY A FRESH-WATER LAKE 100
OUR MULES BEING WATERED 109
WE CAMP IN A WILDERNESS AND STEER FOR "HELMET HILL" 118
MALCOLM AT BREAKFAST WITH ESAU 121
WE CAMP BY TWO FRESH-WATER POOLS 124
TWO ANTELOPES ARE SHOT CLOSE TO CAMP 135
SHAHZAD MIR AT WORK 145
AUTOGRAPH OF THE BUDDHA, page 275 151
THE LAST CAMP OF OUR TWELVE MULES 159
RUBY 165
A DEAD ANTELOPE 180
AN ENORMOUS YAK 183
THE KUSHOK'S TAME YAK 200
SOME MEMBERS OF THE KUSHOK'S CAMP 213
TSOKPO MONGOLS LIVING IN THE BUSH 231
MALCOLM ENGAGES ATTENTION OF MONGOLS WITH "CADBURY":
THEY THINK IT IS SNUFF 235
MONGOL LADIES ON THE BAYAN GOL 238
MONGOL CAMP: ONE OF OUR HALTS 249
THREE REMAINING MULES AT KOKO NOR 253
BUDDHIST PRAYER-WHEEL, WITH SCARF OF BLESSING 268
DR. RIJNHART. DAUGHTER OF THE PRINCE OF KOKO NOR 269
BRIDGE IN CHINA, FIVE MILES FROM TANKAR. MISSIONARY
AND MULE ON BRIDGE 271
BRIDGE OF SHANG-HO-RI (SOUNDING RIVER) ON THE ROAD TO
TANKAR 273
AUDIENCE ROOM OF THE KAMBO (ABBOT) OF KUMBUM 275
MINA FU-YEH (BUDDHA) 277
CHORTENS OF KUMBUM 286
KUMBUM 287
TWO SMALL SHRINES, WITH NUMBERS OF PRAYER-WHEELS 291
PRAYER-WHEELS, BOARDS, ROSARY FROM LUSAR 295
RUINS OF THE E. SUBURB OF SINING 318
A SEDAN CHAIR 321
THE ONLY WAY TO DRIVE IN NORTH CHINA 333
ON THE ROAD FROM LANCHEO, CHINA 339
STREET IN THE TONG KUAN (E. SUBURB), CHONG WEI, YELLOW
RIVER 343
OUR INN AT CHONG WEI 349
OUR WOOL BOAT ON THE YELLOW RIVER 355
HALTING FOR THE NIGHT ON THE YELLOW RIVER 357
A FERRY ACROSS THE HUANG HO 359
ALL THE "CASH" ISSUED FROM THE FIRST OF THE EMPERORS
OF THE TS'ING OR MANCHU DYNASTY 361
ON THE ROAD IN CHINA 369
ON THE ROAD FROM PAO T'EO TO PEKIN 373
BUDDHIST TEMPLE, OUTSIDE KUEI HUA CHENG, CHINA 377
MONGOL ENCAMPMENT 382
TEMPLE OUTSIDE SI-YANG HO 384
BRIDAL CHAIR 387
A GORGE WITH GREAT WALL IN DISTANCE 390
THE GREAT WALL AT CHA-TAO 395
BUDDHIST ARCHWAY BY NAN KOU 399
CLOSE TO THE CELESTIAL CAPITAL 403
A PORTION OF THE WALLS OF THE CAPITAL 407
STREET WHEREIN IS THE ENTRANCE TO THE BRITISH LEGATION 409
PEKIN 413
LASSOO AND ESAU 420
[Illustration: LIEUTENANT MALCOLM.]
THROUGH UNKNOWN TIBET.
CHAPTER I.
PREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY—MALCOLM GOES ON AHEAD.
About the beginning of March, 1896, whilst the Inter-Regimental Polo
Tournament was being held at Umballa, an occasion when representatives
of regiments from all parts of India are gathered together, Lieutenant
Malcolm, of the 93rd Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, and I, agreed
to join forces in an expedition through Tibet. Our resolve was to
traverse the northern portions of this little-known country from west
to east, to find out, if possible, what mysteries lay beneath the
word UNEXPLORED with which alone our latest maps were enlightened;
furthermore to discover and locate the source of the Chu Ma river, which
was supposed to be a source of the Yangtse Kiang; finally to cross the
Tsaidam and end up our wanderings at the celestial capital of China.
During the few weeks that remained before we should be able to take our
leave, we were unfortunately quartered at different places many miles
apart, consequently all our arrangements had to be carried out by post
and wire. It was towards the end of March when we left our respective
stations of Nowshera and Umballa. I remember well the mail train to
Rawal Pindi one bright morning gliding from the latter station past the
well-known grassy maidan, then worn to a dirty dusty brown by reason
of the morning tramp of small mixed armies, and by the equally keen and
destructive work of numerous polo players during the latter half of the
day.
On occasions like this, the thought quite naturally arises in one's
mind, "Is everything here? Has my faithful bearer left anything behind?"
Let us see what was with me in the carriage. In one corner lay my
rifles; these consisted of a ·308 with Martini-Henry action, and 300
rounds of ammunition with Jeffery's split bullets, a sporting carbine
with 200 rounds, a shot-gun with 300, and a couple of government cavalry
carbines with 100. These latter we brought not in the hope of using,
but rather to lessen the chance of a skirmish with any natives showing
hostile intentions, by merely making a display of them. The knowledge
of a caravan being well armed and equipped, however small it may be,
is very often a battle half won amongst unsophisticated inhabitants of
little-known countries. The other rifles, for game, we selected chiefly
for their handiness and the lightness of the ammunition, although a
double-barrelled express may be equally or more destructive. All the
ammunition was placed in government tin-lined wooden boxes, with rope
handles.
Here, too, were our scientific instruments: A three-inch theodolite
and stand, a six-inch sextant, three aneroid barometers, a hypsometer,
maximum and minimum thermometers, plane table and stand, prismatic
compass, and field glasses. Besides this we had a drying press for
flowers, skinning knives, with alum and arsenical soap, a butterfly net,
and a kodak; also the best map of the country we could lay our hands
on, and a few stiff books, such as the "History of the Indian Empire,"
where the dullest mind and imagination can find unlimited food, for
there are times on trips of this description when bad weather or illness
may prevent outdoor progress, and the brain will at once cry out for an
innings. Close by lay a despatch box and medicine chest, containing, for
man's ailments, quinine, Cockle's pills, chlorodyne, auberge for colds,
antipyrine, antiseptic wool, vaseline, and kola nut, the last named
being particularly useful, for a small piece the size of a pea has been
known to sustain strength and energy at the most urgent times; there
were also mustard plasters, which are always effective for sticking on
natives of any uncivilized country, Tibetans themselves being especially
partial to this kind of medicinal adornment. For the mules and ponies,
whose chief and probably only ailment would be the suffering from sore
backs, we carried sugar-of-lead ointment and cyona. There lay, too,
a small chair, a bundle of warm blankets and waterproof sheets, and a
box containing twenty chain hobbles with bolt screw. We had learnt from
Bower, who had crossed Tibet some five years previously, that one of the
greatest delays was caused by the straying of the animals at night-time,
and against this annoyance we were resolved to protect ourselves. These
were very simply made. By way of a portable kitchen we had laid in a box
of cooking utensils, consisting of some steel degchies and a frying pan.
The stores were placed in six boxes, each weighing about thirty pounds,
and made up principally of tea, cocoa, Lazenby's soup squares, Brand's
essences, candles, matches, some sardines and bully beef, with three
bottles of good brandy. In the luggage van were also two government
cavalry saddles, with carbine bucket, wallets, and wooden stirrups,
for we had been led to believe that the cold would be intense, and that
metal stirrups would probably produce a frost-bite. Lastly, though more
precious, was my little fox terrier, Ruby, so full of life and spirits
at starting, yet in happy ignorance of the undeserved fate that overtook
her some seven or eight months later.
Unlike many Indian trains, where, too, the fashion would have suited me
far better, this particular train landed me punctually at Rawal Pindi
at 2 A.M. Despite this unearthly hour and the drizzling rain, I was a
little surprised to find my special tonga awaiting me, though it proved
insufficient for carrying all the luggage. Leaving my little terrier to
take charge of this, I embarked on to a wooden springless box, pulled
by a mule, and steered for the nearest serai, in hopes of being quickly
able to find an ecka. Here I squeezed through some bars of the large
wooden gates which were supposed to keep out night intruders, and any
sleeping inmate who lay in the various rooms I prodded with my stick,
and demanded an ecka. None of these, however, at such an hour, would
accede with any kind of willingness to my proposals. Some absolutely
refused to awake, while others who did, strongly objected to being
roused and to helping me. The only arrangement that would suit any of
these men at all was, that twenty-five rupees should be paid instead of
the proper fare of eighteen. In that case, and providing that my luggage
was brought to the serai, and that there were not too many things, they
agreed to start for Baramula when they felt inclined. Bribes, threats,
and even blows were of no avail, and finally, being opposed by superior
numbers, I retreated, and sad to say not gracefully, for I had to
squeeze through those bars again. Another ride in the box brought me to
a second serai, where I luckily fell in with a choudrie, who produced an
ecka with so stout a pony that he reached the station before I could in
my mule box. Here the ecka was loaded and sent on in advance, shortly
to be overtaken by my tonga, for a tonga will cover the journey of
160 miles to Baramula in two days, while an ecka takes about five. The
only difficulty that arose this morning was the constant jibbing of the
horses, and had they not the providential dodge of repeatedly collapsing
and lying down, I should undoubtedly have rattled down some open
precipice. Despite this delay, I reached the well-known hill station
of Murree for 10 o'clock breakfast. From here the road was heavy, and
had not some gangs of long-suffering coolies, who were working on the
road, come to our assistance, the tonga would be there now. That evening
we reached Domel, where a tumbledown shanty had supplanted, for the
time being, a well-built bungalow which had recently been washed away
by heavy rains and snow. In one respect this was an ill-chosen spot to
spend the night at, as the horses had to be taken away for shelter some
three miles off, I was told, and to induce natives to bring the tonga
ready to start by daybreak was as difficult as to squeeze blood out of
a stone.
[Illustration: CLUB OF NORTHERN INDIA, MURREE, IN SNOW.]
By 7 o'clock, however, we were once more rolling along in dripping
rain, with the everlasting but somewhat monotonous roar of the river
Jhelum below us, so that it was a decided relief to stop for breakfast,
even at an inn like that at Chagoti, where I could hardly mount the
slippery steps that lead up to the entrance, benumbed as I was by wet
and cold, and cramped from several hours of the same position, for
the constant downpour prevented any stretching of legs when changing
horses at the various stages. In somewhat heavier rain we journeyed on
through slush and mud, and arrived at Baramula about sunset. It was my
intention to have embarked here at once on to one of the river boats
and reach Srinagar as quickly as possible. But darkness and rain, and
an inviting light from the adjacent dak bungalow dissolved these plans,
and I was soon ushered inside by a Kashmiri, by name Mahomed Malik. This
man was to be our cook on the expedition; he was armed with several
letters of recommendation, amongst others from Curzon and Littledale,
and had doubtless travelled over a great portion of Asia, and we vainly
congratulated ourselves on having managed to pick up a servant with
so much experience. I was struck, too, by his pleasant appearance, his
quiet yet quick and business-like way of doing things, little knowing
at the time that he had at heart no real intention of accompanying
us, but merely of buying the articles required for our expedition, and
persuading us to buy a great many unnecessary ones, in order to reap a
small fortune from the transaction.
[Illustration: VIEW TOWARDS FIFTH BRIDGE, SRINAGAR.]
From experience gained on this trip and on others, I prefer servants
of all descriptions, with the exception of guides pure and simple, to
be men who have made no previous journeys. Although the possession of
letters explaining what good men they have been on previous journeys is
a useful recommendation, still it can never guarantee what they will be
like. Many of them, after receiving liberal and well-deserved pay for
their services, become inflated with their own importance and vainly
think that no expedition can manage without them. Besides, men of this
description are far more expensive articles than the fresh and keener
man, anxious to make his first essay. It is hardly worth while, too, to
quote the proverb about the fish and the sea. The following morning, I
found myself being towed up the river towards Srinagar, fairly sheltered
from the incessant rain by the matting that forms a roof to these
boats, or doongas, as they are locally called. The water was thick and
brown, no view of the famous snow-capped peaks or pine-clad mountains
could be seen, all was obscured in damp dreariness, and my thoughts
fled back to those I had left to enjoy the sunny plains below. Nor was
there any more inducement on the morrow to slip out from between the
blankets and admire the wonderful scenery of these parts. I continued
to prolong the night until my boat was suddenly boarded by one of
the chief agents of Srinagar, a member of the Sumud Shah family, so
renowned for their Jewish appearance and ways, and for their partiality
in buying and selling all kinds of goods, and for lending or borrowing
money to any amount in any shape or form. There was a second invader, a
moment afterwards, by name Ramzana, who was a chapliwalla, or seller of
chaplies, which are shoes made of leather and straps, and are worn by
most sportsmen who shoot in Kashmir; besides these he sold everything
that man's imagination could conceive as being made of leather, but, it
should be added, of an inferior kind. They brought with them some large
brass plates loaded with white almonds, sweets, and dried currants, and
placing them beside my bed as a friendly initiative to business, began
to ramble on, with beaming faces, about the superiority yet cheapness
of their own goods, and of their eternal willingness to provide me and
my friends who might come to Kashmir with them, at all places and at
all times.
[Illustration: A MERCHANT'S HOUSE IN SRINAGAR.]
About midday the clouds began to lift, and having lightened my cargo of
these persevering Jews, I decided to take a muddy walk and finish the
last eight or nine miles on foot. Part of the way lay along the Baramula
and Srinagar road, along which tongas should certainly be able to ply
the following year, and if the many heaps of flints that were lying
alongside were beaten down into the road itself, there is every chance
of its being able to withstand the traffic. On either side, too, was a
row of dwarf poplars, or "pruss" as they are called by the Kashmiris,
beautifully planted in line at about a yard interval, doubtless helping
to make the drive pleasant and shady enough.
[Illustration: MOHAMMEDAN MOSQUE, SRINAGAR.]
By the river side were men breaking up between two stones black, spikey
nuts called tinkara; these are gathered from the bottom of the river,
and the outside appearance belies what lays hidden beneath, for they
are rather good eating. About dusk, Sumud Shah's shop came in sight, and
having climbed up the steep stairs into his showroom, which overlooked
the river with its many opened windows, I was surrounded and made much
of by numerous Sumuds, each of them inquiring amongst other things
whether I carried any banknotes, and if so, whether they might take care
of them for me. Soon afterwards they produced dinner, composed of about
a dozen plates holding different coloured messes. Fortunately Malik came
to my assistance and brought a mutton bone, and certainly saved me from
an illness. I was glad to escape from so much civility and hospitality
and descend the stairs again and wend my way to my bedroom, which was
airy enough, for three sides could only be described as windows of
perforated wood, whilst the fourth held two doors and no wall.
[Illustration: HINDU TEMPLE, SRINAGAR.]
The first thing I learnt here was that, if I wanted breakfast at 8.30,
it must be ordered for 6 o'clock, which lesson saved me a vast amount
of trouble and impatience in doing all other business in Srinagar. My
second lesson learnt was to believe nobody, however sincere they might
appear to be, for these vendors are for ever plotting and scheming
against one another for the sake of gaining the merest trifle, and
many of them, who are seemingly bosom friends, are in reality the most
unscrupulous enemies, and _vice versâ_. My time was spent in bargaining
and purchasing goods from men of this description.
It was our intention here to have collected, if possible, some good
mules and ponies for transport, and send them up to Leh, which would
be our starting-point. But the route was at this time of the year
impassable by reason of heavy falls of snow. All our transport,
therefore, had to be bought in Leh itself. There was plenty to do at
Srinagar, nevertheless, in fitting out the expedition in other ways, and
in endeavouring to pick up some muleteers, as it is not always easy to
pick up good men at Leh to accompany one on a trip of this description.
One day I visited the Tibetan serai which lies a little lower down the
river, to see whether I could get some Yarkandi saddles for our mules,
although it seemed rather ridiculous to purchase these before the
animals. I was under the wrong impression that they were not obtainable
in Leh. They are made of coarse grass or reeds, covered with sacking,
with soft munnah over the part that rests on the animal's neck and
shoulder, costing from eight to ten rupees each when complete. They have
the advantage over the wooden saddle, as mules can roll with these on
their backs, and they are, besides, easily repaired, and can have holes
cut into them, or otherwise shaped, so as to relieve any pressure on
the tender part of a sore back.
Whilst engaged in getting these saddles mended up, I fell in with a
man called Tokhta, who was clever at shoeing, and as he seemed willing
to come with me I at once engaged him. He was a Yarkandi man, and had
travelled in Turkistan.
[Illustration: ON THE RIVER, SRINAGAR.]
It is a great saving of time and trouble on the march to have loads
so arranged that they can be easily loaded and unloaded. Most of the
things were therefore placed into yakdans, which are light boxes about
2 ft. × 1 ft. 3 in. × 1 ft., but can be made to order in other sizes.
They are covered with leather, and fitted on the outside with a pair
of buckles and stout leather straps. Our beds, too, were composed of
yakdans, with two iron sockets in each, to hold two iron rings. Into
these were placed the two bamboo poles that held the bed. These yakdans
can be bought cheaper, stronger, and lighter at Peshawar. I also bought
120 sets of shoes with 1,000 spare nails, and shoeing tools for the
mules and ponies, and for our followers four maunds of rice (a maund
equals about eighty pounds), a maund of dal, thirty pounds of tea, salt,
pepper, curry powder, and hot spices. In the shape of presents we bought
watches, pistols, knives, rings, and some saffron which is made from
the dried stigmas of the _Crocus sativus_, and is highly esteemed as a
dye by the Tibetans, especially by the Lamas. A few days later, Malcolm
joined me, bringing his share of stores, etc., and together we bought
the warmest clothing we could find, underclothing of lambs' wool, thick
woollen socks, double soled and heeled, thick puttoo suits, fur-lined
caps and cloaks, and fur-lined sleeping bags. We wore the regulation
infantry ammunition boots. For shelter we bought five tents, all double
twill lined. Two of these were for ourselves, one for our cook and
servant, one for our sub-surveyor, and one for the muleteers. These
were small and light, and the whole of them would not have equalled more
than a mule load. I have seen some tents lined with warm cloth such as
puttoo, but this is not so effective in keeping out a keen wind as the
closer-woven twill. We found iron pegs answered our purpose, excepting
when the ground was too sandy; on these occasions we used to tie the
ropes to one of the handles of an ammunition box or yakdan.
[Illustration: DUFFADAR SHAHZAD MIR, 11TH BENGAL LANCERS.]
One morning, in the midst of making these preparations, there was a
sudden rush and hullaballoo, for a fire had broken out in some adjacent
buildings, and I was invited by many excited vendors to go and visit the
scene. The police station was in flames, and thousands of natives were
engaged in passing up from hand to hand chatties or small earthenware
pots from the rivers edge, whilst the bhisties or water carriers were
running madly about in every direction with their skins full of water.
The police, who had lost their wits, were idle onlookers, but standing
on a brick wall forty feet high was a fine muscular man wielding
a massive beam, with which he was beating the roof of the burning
building, with what object it was impossible to say. I was nevertheless
struck by his courage, and inquired who this hero might be, and felt
somewhat anxious for his safety; but when they told me he was my dhobie,
or laundress, my fear for him was lost in the greater anxiety for my
clothes which he had only that very morning received, and I at once took
steps to get him to a safer footing, and left the fire to burn out as
it pleased. With Malcolm came one Shahzad Mir, Duffadar, 11th Bengal
Lancers, a man who had travelled before with Captain Younghusband, and
who had done work on the Pamir Commission. He was a great addition to
our party, chiefly as a sub-surveyor, and was keen on the job. Through
him I was enabled to pick up another man called Shukr Ali, who had also
been with Captain Younghusband. He was a tall, dark fellow of cheery
countenance, and was anxious to make a little money to support his
family living somewhere in Ladakh.
[Illustration: SHUKR ALI.]
During all this time we received every kind of assistance from the
Resident, Captain Trench, who presented us with a huge watch-dog called
Tippoo. Tippoo unfortunately had to be chained up day and night, for
when allowed to go loose he invariably seized on the first native who
came in his way. In consequence of this imprisonment he quickly became
footsore when compelled to march, and took up a new home with the first
Nomads we came across.
On April 5th Malcolm left me at Srinagar to complete the arrangements
and to wait for the passport, about which there had been so serious a
hitch that it seemed doubtful whether we should be able to start on
our journey at all. He left with a small flotilla of three boats to
carry some fifty coolie loads of luggage, together with Shahzad Mir and
Tokhta, who bade many farewells, mingled with callings to their god, to
the large crowd of friends gathered on the shore to see the start. It
was calculated that on the following day they would reach the village
of Gunderbul, lower down the river, and from thence collect coolies
and ponies and make their way to Leh, the capital of Ladakh, and the
starting-point of our expedition.