WE CATCH UP THE MERCHANT'S CAMP—TIBETAN HOSPITALITY—WE FIND THAT
WE HAVE DISCOVERED THE SOURCE OF THE CHU MA—BARGAINING.
It can well be imagined that we were not long in loading up our three
mules, and were soon marching faster than was our wont down the banks
of the river. Still, as we covered mile after mile, we were growing
disappointed at finding no tracks of the caravan, especially, too, as
from any high mounds that afforded a far-stretching view, we could
see no signs of any camp at all. We began to lose heart and to fear
the whole affair was a myth. We wondered whether the merchant had been
deceiving Esau. Just then, as our doubts had become really serious, we
reached the place where the caravan had crossed the river.
The merchant had certainly given good advice, and easy to follow, in
telling us to overtake him by means of his tracks. They were clearly
seen and numberless in the soft sandy soil; it seemed as though a
whole army had swept along. By the water's edge was a mud pile two feet
high, decorated with a stick on top. We were convinced that it was a
landmark to point out to merchants where to cross in safety. Here we
had to leave the river, which we had been following for nearly twelve
days from its very source. We kept to the tracks of the merchant,
expecting every moment to come upon the encampment. Our three mules were
beginning to show signs of fatigue, and as sunset was close at hand we
were reluctantly compelled to halt for the night without the fulfilment
of our hopes. We were a little anxious and disappointed, for we argued
that if the merchant always marched like this, we should never be able
to catch him up.
The next morning, the 8th September, we tried hard to come in sight of
the merchant. The tracks took us over a steep pass of deep sand and a
descent down to a fine grassy valley, fed with a stream of clear bright
water. Close to this we found they had encamped the night before. Here
was the first good grass we had seen since leaving the river, so it was
clear the merchant had declined to halt until he had reached a really
good camping-ground, and we reckoned that the chances were that the next
march would only be a short one.
We found the fires that had been lit were still burning, the dried
droppings or argols were still red-hot, and various marks denoted where
the different tents had been pitched, and the yak and ponies picketed.
Such preparations as fire and water at hand induced us to halt for
breakfast, and after despatching this frugal meal, Malcolm, Esau and
myself, loaded with some rupees, which we had not set eyes on for
months, set out in front, determined to catch up the merchants that very
night, no matter how far they might have gone. We could no longer stand
this vanishing like a will-o'-the-wisp. The other three men and three
mules were to follow on in their own time, making as long a march as
they could manage.
There was no difficulty in following the tracks, for we could sometimes
see miles a away a broad black-looking line over damp grassy or deep
sandy ground showing the route that had been taken. We had a long though
pleasant tramp before us, mostly through grassy valleys, bounded on
either hand by fine ranges of hills. The sun had set, yet we were able
easily to distinguish the tracks, and finally, after turning the corner
of a valley, we saw lights burning some way off in some low-lying land,
well sheltered by neighbouring hills from the bitterly cold wind that
was blowing.
As long as we continued on the move we did not suffer, but a halt of
a few minutes soon became unpleasant. After an eighteen-mile walk we
were within half a mile of the tents, so we sent Esau on ahead, armed
with one of our Chinese visiting cards, to announce to the merchant
that we were outside, and were anxious to pay our respects to him,
and, if possible, do a little business in the shape of food and hiring
transport.
As soon as Esau had left us we quickly grew cold and impatient, for
we had expected he would have at once come himself, or sent some one
else, to bring us to the presence of the merchant. We could stand it
no longer; we were famished with cold and hunger, and there lay the
tents. We had done our share of being polite by sending our servant on
in front. Why should we not go ourselves and enter the merchant's tent
without more formality? As we drew near to the tents, the loud fierce
barking of the big dogs gave tidings of our approach. Hunger and cold
made us indifferent to these monsters, and had it not been for the
kindness and intelligence of a small boy, who saw us, we might have had
a very unpleasant time of it. With his aid we at length found our way to
the head merchant's tent, where a dangerously fine-looking dog, luckily
chained up to the pole, by his angry growls soon brought the merchant's
servant from within. He must by this time have heard all about our
arrival, for without more ado he beckoned to us to come inside the
tent. We wanted no second invitation to escape from the icy-cold north
wind that seemed to penetrate our very bones. We smiled with unfeigned
pleasure and delight as we entered this cosy warm abode. On either side
of the tent was a thick mattress, covered with dull red cloth, and on
the end of each of them sat a Tibetan merchant, clothed in dark red
robes. At the end of the tent was burning a gentle light, displaying
his religious articles of silver and other precious metals that lay on
a table—a light that was quite in accordance with the surroundings of
comfort and snugness. In the middle of the tent was a fire of red-hot
argols, glowing particularly bright on this cold night, supporting a
shining copper kettle filled with tea.
At the end of one of the beds sat Esau, busily engaged in filling his
inner man; whilst able to satisfy his own wants he seemed to have lost
his senses and forgotten all about his masters'. A few sharp words of
reproof soon brought him to his feet, and we were introduced to the two
chief Tibetans in the camp. They signed to us to be seated, and then
handed us a basin each, which the servant filled with hot tea. Into
this he dropped a large lump of butter, and then held before us a large
red leather bag, filled with tsampa, or finely-ground barley meal. From
this we took several large spoonfuls and mixed up with the tea, adding
whatever salt we fancied. The merchant's servant then handed us some
chopsticks, and we were soon at work shovelling the hot mixture into our
mouths, rather greedily, I'm afraid, and if I were to relate the number
of basins we emptied that night, it would never be credited.
As soon as we had somewhat satisfied the gnawings of our hunger, we
opened negotiations about purchasing supplies. The prices far excelled
our purses, and as everything was packed up for their early march the
next morning, no business could be done in that line. The merchant
informed us that he only intended making a six-mile march, and he
consented to lend us two ponies for our baggage, that they might help
our three mules in reaching the camp the next day. He said he would
leave his servant with them, with instructions that if our three mules
did not arrive before midday, he was to wait no longer, but come on
without them.
After thanking the two merchants for their hospitality, we left the tent
to go to the shelter where it had been arranged we were to spend the
night. We found ourselves stumbling over picketing ropes and threading
our way amidst hosts of yak, till we drew up before a huge pile of goods
with a large awning stretched over them. We sat down in the darkness by
this mass of merchandise. Here we found no shelter from the wind, and to
have remained there for any length of time would have been impossible;
such a bitterly cold wind we had never experienced before—besides, we
did not feel we were being treated with the little respect we were
entitled to. In our present condition we could certainly not expect
much, but here were we, two Englishmen, chucked along with the baggage
under an awning, absolutely no shelter on a night like this, while the
two Tibetan merchants were sleeping peacefully in warmth and comfort.
We could withstand it no longer, and rose to find our way back to the
merchants' tent. They had both gone to bed, but we informed them that
we, too, had come to sleep inside the tent, and at once began to make
ourselves at home. The merchants, though surprised at our intrusion,
still were not in a frame of mind to object to our company. Either they
had some pity for us on this bitter night, or more probably, owing to
the late hour we had kept them up eating and talking, they were too
tired to resort to argument or resistance. A numnah was placed on the
ground between the two beds for us to lie upon. As soon as various
coverings had been spread over us, we were soon warm again and both
sound asleep.
Before daybreak I was aroused by some energetic Tibetan, gifted
with a voice like a bull, bellowing forth "Chou-chou, chou-chou,
chou-chou-ou-ou-ou!" which, I am told, means, "Up and get ready!" I
think I must have dozed again after this, for I next remembered finding
myself in the open on the ground. It was just getting light, and masses
of laden yak were moving past us. We were both struck with astonishment;
nobody seemed to take any notice of us. There we lay; there was no
noise—everybody seemed as though he was going to do his own work and
look to nothing else. Batch after batch quietly disappeared—merchants,
tents, yak, ponies, men, dogs, and all. All seemed to know what was
happening but ourselves; we could not grasp the situation, but cold made
us rise and try to warm ourselves.
[Illustration: THE KUSHOK'S TAME YAK.]
In spite of the wonderful disappearance of this wonderful camp, we were
glad to find that the merchant had kept his word, for we found two very
fat-looking ponies had been left behind for us in charge of his servant
Nimbri, who was provided also with the large red bag of tsampa and the
other ingredients for mixing it up with. We weren't long in having
the kettle boiling, and Malcolm and I sat down along with Nimbri to
breakfast.
Esau had gone back to hasten on the mules for fear they should not
arrive before noon. Nimbri was fully aware of the position he held as
master of the ceremonies, and for some time was stingy with his doling
out of the food; but a present of a knife and a rupee, which at first
he refused, made him more liberal, and although all our conversation was
carried on by signs, we all laughed heartily and enjoyed the fun. After
our remarkable breakfast Nimbri gave us two large coats, and wrapping
ourselves in these, we separated and went to sleep in some sunny nook.
I was aroused by Malcolm some time afterwards to come and have some more
breakfast, when Nimbri made signs to us that it was about noon, and that
he could wait no longer. Just at that moment the mules came into sight
round the corner, the baggage was quickly transferred to the ponies,
and our men had soon finished the tea and tsampa, which they so well
deserved. We now looked forward to reaching the merchants' camp before
darkness and learning something about the management of it, its size
and composition. Malcolm and I, who were in front, were soon surrounded
by a number of Tibetans, who made friendly jokes amongst themselves and
were evidently amused at our appearance.
As soon as our baggage arrived, we pitched our little tent and attempted
to return the hospitality of the merchants by inviting them to tea,
which was all we could give them. We were anxious, too, to make a
bargain with them for hiring a yak or pony for our baggage. Just before
darkness the two merchants came, for our tent was not more than a
hundred yards off from their own. The hospitality and comfort of our
tent was but a poor apology for that of their own, as we all four of
us sat crowded up in an uncomfortable heat. Esau was close at hand as
interpreter, but we failed to come to any agreement about hiring animals
for the morrow. We were able, however, to purchase some supplies, flour
at eight annas, and afterwards one rupee a pound, and ghi and salt at
correspondingly high rates.
The following morning the whole merchants' camp had moved off before
we had begun to load up. We had no trouble in finding their tracks,
and after a pleasant march we noticed one of the mountain sides thickly
dotted with the merchants' yak out grazing, so we knew the tents would
be close at hand; everything was in full swing as if the camp had been
there for months. As we approached we were told by Nimbri to pitch our
tent near the head merchant's, into whose tent we were soon invited to
drink tea.
As we sat sipping and chatting about the country and the people, to our
great astonishment and delight he informed us that the name of the river
where we had first seen his camp was no other than the Chu Ma, the very
one we had been in search of. Without being aware of it at the time, we
had actually discovered the source of the Chu Ma just after leaving the
beautiful fresh-water lake abounding in wild yak. We had also followed
its course for nearly twelve days, a distance of about 120 miles. This
river is also known to the Tibetans as the Ma Chu, and to the Mongols as
the Nap-chitai-ulen. He informed us that the intention of the Tibetans
to oppose the entrance of foreigners into Lhassa was stronger than it
had ever been before; and it was his firm belief that no one ever would
reach Lhassa.
After we had made some purchases in the shape of cheese, dates, and
a piece of meat, we took our departure. In the course of the visit
we had presented the head merchant with a small tin of saffron, which
all Tibetans value so highly. We hoped that by doing so, when he came
to visit our tent in return, he would be more inclined to listen to a
bargain for helping us with our baggage.
As soon as we were ready for the reception in our tent of the two
merchants, we sent word to them. We had purposely got out our bottle of
brandy, and hoped that, if they would take some, they would become more
liberal-minded. They certainly warmed up and appreciated this valuable
intoxicant, although they were most cautious in the amount they took. We
produced more saffron and talked and argued for a long while in hopes
of buying a pony at a reasonable price. At length they agreed to let
us have an old but powerful and useful pony for Rs. 60, for which they
had at first demanded Rs. 120. It was a great relief for us to be able
to do something for our three mules, and having struck this bargain, we
soon hinted to the merchants that it was time for bed.
Before telling further of our adventures, it will be worth while to
devote a chapter in describing the merchants' camp.