BALTAL—LEH—I REJOIN MALCOLM—THE CHINESE PASSPORT ARRIVES.
Five days after Malcolm's departure, that is, on the 10th April, news
reached me that the passport would shortly be forwarded; upon this I at
once embarked with the intention of reaching Leh as soon as possible
after him. All things had to be settled up before leaving, and Shukr
Ali was installed as cook for the journey instead of Malik, who had
declined to go but had produced his bill. Amongst the items mentioned
in it was an iron brush, which at first was a puzzler, but after all it
turned out to be not such a bad name to designate a "rasp." His last
request was that I might give him some more backshish, for he said
he had not even made a single pie out of the numerous articles he had
bought for us! The following morning, awaking in the boat, I found we
had arrived at Manasbal, where three ponies and ten coolies sufficed
to carry the remainder of our luggage, and we were soon wending our
way up the glorious Sind valley. The morning was still and close, with
small light clouds resting on the hills, while a fine haze enveloped all
which might have augured a bright summer's day or the reverse. After
fourteen miles Kangan was reached, where our transport was changed
for seven fresh ponies, and the village of Goond, another fourteen
miles, that same evening soon after dark. Although no provisions were
procurable at that time, I found shelter under a shed wherein to put up
my bed, but sleep was a failure, as my two dogs Tippoo and Ruby saw or
imagined they saw a stranger every moment and barked accordingly. Rain
poured all the next day, so that I could not push on further than to
Gagangir, and was glad to find a house there made of mud and wood to
rest in. It would have been very hard for the coolies to have toiled
further that day, as the road for the next six miles led through deep
snow, where, too, avalanches were feared from the mountains which rose
precipitously from either bank of the stream we should have to follow.
I therefore made the best of a halt, and having purchased a sheep for
two rupees and a hen for seven annas, made a royal repast. The next day,
after a wet march, we reached the region of snow, and put up at a small
hut at Sonamerg. This place, although consisting of only a few small
wooden huts, nevertheless boasts of a state telegraph and post-office.
From here the road was deep in snow, upon which locomotion became more
difficult every hour. I stopped for the night at a place called Baltal,
well known to the many readers of Knight's interesting book, "Where
Three Empires Meet." Here I found that two officers had taken up their
abode, having pitched their tents inside one of the stone and wooden
buildings, the one of course which admitted least snow and water. There
they were seated, with big boots, ulsters, and umbrellas, and had been
practically in this position for the last three days, and in every
likelihood would remain there for a good many more; worse than that, it
was probable that I should be added to the party. I did not envy them
when they boasted that they were the oldest inhabitants of the place.
The coolies lay together for the sake of warmth around small fires
beside the buildings, having to take turns to sally forth and collect
the wood.
[Illustration: THE GLACIERS, SONAMERG.]
Baltal lies at the foot of the Zoji La pass, and these men had not any
wish to attempt to cross it while the weather was stormy, for avalanches
at such times are most dangerous in those parts, and they were warned by
the death, only ten days previously, of two post runners. There seemed,
indeed, small chance of starting on the morrow as I sat down to enjoy
a much appreciated dinner given me by these two old inhabitants. As
I retired for the night we were, therefore, surprised and rejoiced at
seeing once again some stars, and still more did we rejoice when, at 6
A.M. on a perfectly clear, still morning, so refreshing after the last
few days of storm and darkness, the three of us, leading the caravan
and followed by some sixty coolies, began the ascent of the pass. It
was certainly hard work for these poor fellows, who, with a load of some
fifty or sixty pounds, had to climb over the masses of snow, the result
of the recent avalanches, and make a road for themselves, when, as often
as not, at each step they sank up to their waists, all, too, for the
small prize of four annas! Although the journey to the top of the Zoji
La was only about two miles, we took three hours to get there. That day
we were twelve and a half hours in marching sixteen miles to Metaiun,
having made a short halt at the small posting place of Machahoi. At
night I found a small hut eight feet square, but was forced to wait
outside in the cold while my dinner was being cooked, for in this abode
there was no exit for the smoke whatever, and suffocation might have
resulted had I remained inside. From hence we journeyed on through the
snow to Dras, taking again nine hours to do the fifteen miles. At this
important stage, provisions, fresh coolies, and all manner of things
can be bought, and letters can be had at the post-office if they have
arrived; but on this occasion none had been received for five days, at
the end of which time the news of the death of the two post runners
was corroborated. From thence fresh coolies were to carry the loads,
and the poor fellows who had done the work for the last five days were
dismissed to return to their villages in their own time. This journey,
too, they had done most pluckily and cheerily, over mountains deep in
snow and a pass over 11,000 feet high, amidst almost incessant falling
snow or rain, with no adequate shelter at night time, all for two and a
half rupees apiece! At this small sum, too, they expressed much pitiful
delight, for it was a rupee in excess of their real fare.
[Illustration: FIRST SIGNS OF BUDDHISM BEYOND LEH, AT MULBECK.]
The fresh relay of coolies carried my baggage in two more days to
Kargil, passing through Tashgam, a pretty little spot with a small
plantation of willows, but the beauty of the place was somewhat marred
by the snow that still lay about. At Kargil there is good accommodation,
and supplies are plentiful; there are, too, some little nondescript
shops. Thenceforth ponies replace coolies for carrying the baggage, each
pony carrying a load of about 150 pounds. From Kargil the road ascends
the hills and leads over rolling ground, while the adjacent hill tops
become rounded, and the general appearance of the country is somewhat
dreary. After twenty miles, the village of Mulbeck is reached, where one
first sees the small monasteries of the Lamas perched on some pinnacle,
and the piles of flat stones with their sacred writings, called mānés.
From this point the road became heavy, owing to the mud, and soon after
midday we came to the village of Kharbu, where I learnt that further on
the mud was yet deeper and thicker, and on the rising ground I found the
snow even worse. About five o'clock I arrived at another small village
at the foot of a pass. Here the men demanded a halt, for they said it
would be impossible to cross it that evening. Despite their earnest
entreaties and clasped hands, I decided to push on. Soon after this
darkness set in, before even we had reached the summit, and a biting
wind, with driving snow, made our progress slow, so that at one time
I almost regretted not having paid attention to their supplications.
Just as we were about to begin the descent, one of the baggage ponies
completely gave way and collapsed in the snow. This necessitated a
redistribution of the loads, many moans and groans, and very nearly
resulted in some frost-bites.
In darkness we stumbled down the mountain side, inwardly hoping that no
other pony would collapse. As soon as we had descended low enough to
be free from the clouds of driving sleet, we were helped by the faint
light of the moon, and eventually at a late hour arrived at Lamayuru.
Fatigue and a short night's rest disinclined the men for another early
start, although the march from this place is perhaps the finest and
most pleasant of any. The road follows a winding stream running merrily
between grand massive cliffs and rocks, till at Khalsi it crosses the
River Indus, where a small native guard is maintained, thence through
Nurla on to Saspul. From here I had resolved to reach Leh in one day,
so instructed my factotum, Shukr Ali, to urge on the ponies as fast as
possible. This he certainly did with such a will that in four hours we
had reached Nimo, while none of the pony drivers were able to keep pace;
consequently at Nimo the ponies were without masters. Here we again
changed animals, and starting on ahead of the loaded ones and mounted on
a rat of a pony, about sunset I first gained sight of this redoubtable
Leh. The first conspicuous object was the Lama monastery, and quite
naturally too, for, as usual with Lama monasteries, it was perched on
a hill of commanding position, while Leh itself, at first appearance,
looked small and insignificant. With my goal in sight, I was not long
in finding a way through the narrow winding paths, past the missionary
quarters, to the rest bungalow, having been twelve days on the road.
Here Malcolm was waiting for me, having arrived two days previously, and
we at once set about buying our mules and ponies and in collecting our
muleteers, for at present we had only Shukr Ali and Tokhta. We were told
by every one that at this time of the year it would be most difficult to
buy mules, so we were extremely fortunate in falling in with a merchant
who had lately arrived from Lhassa, and who was willing to sell us
fifteen. Although they were not in as fat a condition as they should
be at the commencement of a journey, they were nevertheless hard, and
formed the nucleus of our transport. Besides these, we were only able to
pick up seven other mules, one here and one there, and were compelled
to be satisfied with ponies for the remainder of our transport. These
we found in no way equal to the mules for an expedition of this kind. If
ponies have to be taken, the best are those which come from the district
of Lhassa. Of these we had two, while the rest were Ladakhis.
[Illustration: BRIDGE OVER THE SURV RIVER AT KARGIL, ON THE ROAD
TO LEH.
BRIDGE ON CANTILEVER PATTERN.]
In Leh three distinct kinds of mules are obtainable, namely, Yarkandis,
Ladakhis, and Lhassa or Chang Tanis; of these the former are by far
the most taking in appearance, and are mostly very big, standing 14·2
to 15 hands. They are, however, unfitted for a long journey when
grass is likely to be scarce, and only a limited quantity of grain
can be carried. The majority of these mules are black in colour. The
Ladakhi mules are mostly brown; they are generally extremely hardy,
able to stand great cold, and to do a lot of work on inferior food.
Unfortunately they are hard to obtain, as only a very small number are
bred, and some are too small to be much good. The best of all are the
Chang Tanis, bought in Leh; the very fact of their being there shows
that they have been able to perform a long march with loads on their
backs; they require little or no grain, and are very hardy. Yarkandi
merchants, as a rule, give their mules loads of 200 lbs. to 240 lbs. and
about 4 lbs. of grain daily; the Lhassa merchants put about 160 lbs. on
their backs, and, when grass is plentiful, give no grain. Altogether
we mustered twenty-two mules, costing on an average 129 rupees each,
and seventeen ponies at about sixty-one rupees each. All of them we
branded on the hind quarters to guard against any attempt at fraud
after the purchase. In collecting these animals and our men we were
assisted by Lala Bishan Dass, Wazir of Leh. He also helped us in many
other ways, and as he spoke excellent English, matters were somewhat
simplified. Besides the two men already mentioned, namely, Shukr Ali
and Tokhta, we impressed into our service six other muleteers, four
of them being Argoons, who are really half-castes, arising from the
merchants of Turkestan making short marriages with the Ladakhi women;
also two Ladakhis and one Yarkandi. Besides these eight men and our
sub-surveyor, Shahzad Mir, we also took as servant a Ladakhi named Esa
Tsareng, whom we simplified into Esau, and refer to him afterwards by
that name. This man had for some little time listened to the doctrines
of the good missionaries of Leh, but eventually had reverted again to
the Buddhist religion. For all that he proved himself throughout to be
a most faithful servant and a useful and clever man, for he could read
and write the Tibetan characters. We had one other follower, an Argoon
named Lassoo. He was a very neatly made little man, cheery at all times.
Besides being an excellent cook, he was also a first-rate muleteer,
tailor, barber, carpenter; in fact, there was hardly any capacity in
which he did not shine.
[Illustration: SHAHZAD MIR AND OUR TEN MEN.]
The muleteers soon gave evidence of what sort of men we had to deal
with. They were an avaricious lot of fellows, and in a body refused
to come with us under twenty rupees a month each, and this amount
in actual wages we were unwilling to give, for we learnt that former
travellers had paid men of this description fifteen rupees, and we were
anxious not to be accused by those who might come after us of "raising
the price." Promises of high backshish to all good workers carried no
weight with such men, till at last we dismissed the whole crowd of them.
At this stage of our preparations the chances of our ever starting at
all looked decidedly black—we had no men and we had no passport—still
more so when we were informed that there were no other men in Leh who
would go with us. Being thus cornered and time most precious, we were
in the end most reluctantly obliged to take them at their own price,
and having discovered in other ways the class of men we had to deal
with, we inwardly reflected that the only way to meet with success would
be to humour them in all they wanted, and we foresaw that if we acted
otherwise no headway would be made. We also agreed to give them per
diem two pounds of flour, rice, or parched ground barley, one chitak
(equal to two ounces) of butter carried in skins, one-fifth of a chitak
(equal to one tola) of tea, besides the curry powder, spices, salt,
and pepper already mentioned, and meat when procurable. We also gave
them warm clothes and boots, money to buy more, and cooking utensils.
We took in all for our ten men and Shahzad Mir nine maunds of flour,
four of barley, four of rice, one of dal, sufficient, providing there
was no robbery, to last them nearly four and a half months. Having so
far bought our animals and enlisted our men, we at once set to work
to fit out all these animals, so as to be able to carry the supplies.
The twelve smallest mules were provided with wooden saddles, while the
remainder wore the palans; to each mule were three ropes, two for tying
on the load and one spare. Each mule, too, was provided with headstall,
nosebag, and picketing rope. To equip each animal in this way cost us
about ten rupees a-piece. As regards food for our animals, we made
sufficient bags to carry eighteen maunds of grain and twenty-eight
maunds of bhoussa, or chopped straw, both of which we should be able
to buy some marches out of Leh, and also at Shushal on the Pangong
Lake, which we were told would be the last point where we could obtain
supplies. We reckoned that on an average each animal would carry 200
pounds. Of course, some of the mules were equal to nearly 300 pounds,
whilst it would have been unwise to put more than 150 pounds on some of
the ponies. Thus engaged, we continued to buy our goods and superintend
the work and preparations, still anxious in regard to our passport,
which had not yet arrived. Amongst other things, we had to see to the
cold shoeing of our ponies and mules. On the 27th April everything was
in readiness to start, and we decided to send forward our caravan on
the morrow slowly with easy stages under the command of Shahzad Mir as
far as Shushal, twelve days' march from Leh, whilst we ourselves would
wait a few more days for the passport, and follow afterwards on hired
transport, making two or three marches a day. On the evening before
their departure, it was arranged that a nautch should be given in the
rest bungalow compound, to which entertainment we were not only invited
to come, but were also requested to subscribe and provide refreshment
for the performers in the shape of spirits; it ended in our giving
the show and their coming to it. In front of the bungalow was a small
green, and in the centre of this a pile of bricks was erected to hold
a number of burning logs; on one side and a few yards from this, seats
were placed for ourselves, with men standing with lighted torches on
either hand of us; opposite us were the local musicians—would that
they had been placed at a greater distance off! On the two flanks, the
inhabitants of Leh arranged themselves in several rows with the front
ones sitting. Directly on our left was the well-nourished Munshi Palgez,
master of the ceremonies, who, squatting on the ground with a low bench
in front of him to hold the refreshments, superintended the distribution
of the chang, the meat, and the chupatties.
The show commenced with half a dozen women, dressed in gay finery and
bangles, moving in slow time around the fire, keeping pace together
in the varied waving of their arms and swaying of their bodies. After
this, each man in turn came forward and displayed his own special dance;
some were of gentle mood, whilst others were frantic in their actions,
and apparently dangerous with a flashing sword. The real fun was only
reached when one of our own retainers, named Usman, doubtless bent
upon celebrating his last evening at Leh, began his wild and lively
dance. In the midst of his performance, suddenly stooping down, he
seized the large pot of chang from under the very nose of the stout and
all-important Palgez, who, having enjoyed every luxury of life without
interruption for many years, was very nearly ending his days on the
spot from mere fright at this piece of uproarious conduct. Yet Usman,
not satisfied with this mirthful deed, began to dance more wildly than
ever, swinging the well-filled pot at arm's length around his head,
besprinkling all the onlookers with the intoxicating liquid, till
finally, being tackled by some stout men from the crowd, he was thrown
heavily to the ground, and disarmed of his dangerous weapons. After this
unexpected burst we retired, leaving the entertainment to wear itself
out.
[Illustration: CHINESE PASSPORT, ONE AND A HALF FEET SQUARE.]
On the morrow, the day fixed upon for the departure of our caravan,
several delays occurred; some small item was always found wanting by
these dilatory men. So anxious were they to delay their departure till
another day, that it was nearly 3 o'clock before we could give the
signal to open the gates of the serai and let out the animals, where
they had been fattening since we had bought them. Thereupon there was
a mighty rush, and on reaching the main thoroughfare of the bazaar,
where crowds of inhabitants had gathered to view the departure, terrible
confusion ensued. Some discarded their loads altogether, others rushed
madly into any open door or alley that came in sight, and as they
were collected, loaded, and driven on again, the crowd grew thicker
and noisier. Soon after passing through the bazaar, the road makes a
sharp descent, enough to baffle any further following of the crowd,
nor were the sorrowing relatives of the men inclined at this spot to
accompany them any longer. Here our muleteers bade a fond farewell,
little suspecting that this in reality would be the very last for some
of them, while a few of the more generous-hearted cast small change
to the young fry. We ourselves, after riding with them till more
steadiness prevailed, turned our ponies' heads again to Leh. After so
much confusion, arranging, bartering, and arguing, we lived in peace
and quiet for the next few days, amusing ourselves in taking heights
and latitudes, and enjoying the hospitality of the good missionaries,
our only excitement being the arrival of the post, with the chance of
its bringing our passport. On the 4th May, passport or no passport, our
patience had ended, and we resolved to start, for it was not desirable
that our caravan should remain many days in an idle state at Shushal. We
had no confidence in our men, and felt there was nothing like humouring
them in all their wants, but at the same time in giving them no time
to think of forming and carrying out any plot that might upset our
arrangements and intentions.
[Illustration: MY RED CHINESE VISITING CARD, FIVE INCHES BROAD
AND TEN INCHES LONG.]
We hired six ponies for our remaining baggage, and ourselves mounted on
two others, equipped with Government cavalry saddles, carbine bucket,
wallets, and wooden stirrups, with poshteen in front and small suleetah
behind, prepared to leave the bungalow. We had just been lunching with
Vaughan of the Border Regiment, and Ward of the Middlesex, both of whom
had come for shooting; with them we enjoyed the last hospitality, and
the last conversation with our own countrymen, we were to have until the
middle of next October. "Well," they remarked, as we mounted directly
afterwards, "so you are off to Pekin!" "Yes," we replied, "we will
start this very moment, and do our best to get there," not that we felt
doubtful of our undertaking, for the bracing air, the pure clear skies,
the grand and glorious mountains of Ladakh, would inspire any man with
confidence and self-reliance. Fortune, too, seemed favourable that day,
for at the same moment the postman entered the gate of the compound,
bringing our Chinese passport and Chinese visiting cards, the delay of
which had cost us all our limited store of patience. The passport gave
us free permission to travel through the provinces of Kansu, Shansi,
and Shensi to Pekin, and through the New Dominion, at the same time
enjoining all whom we came across to assist us and put no obstacles
in our way. As we passed the kind missionaries' house, we received a
hearty and last farewell, and entering the bazaar rode through it almost
unobserved, for none knew of the exact time of our departure, and most
of the inhabitants were enjoying repose at that time of day.