MANAGEMENT OF THE TIBETAN CARAVAN—TEA WITH THE MERCHANT—SHUGATZA
RIVER—FRICTION—AN ALARM.
The general management and internal economy of this wonderful caravan
was sufficiently full of interest to merit a small space being devoted
to its description. The head of the caravan was a very fine-looking
Tibetan from Lhassa; he must have stood well over six feet and was
exceedingly well-built, decidedly the biggest Tibetan I have ever seen.
In the camp he was always known as the "Kushok," and all attempts
to find out his real name resulted in failure; I very much doubt if
more than one or two members of the caravan knew it, and they dared
not disclose it. The title "Kushok" was originally applied only to
living Buddhas, but latterly it has become merely a term of respect or
affection, and no longer has any religious significance.
Next in importance to the Kushok came another big merchant, who lived
and slept in the same tent with him; besides these two there were
numerous small merchants, some of whom owned, perhaps, as few as half
a dozen yak; and, lastly, a lama or priest. Altogether they made up an
imposing caravan of close on 1,500 yak, as near as we could calculate.
We were told that one herdsman was employed to look after every sixty
yak, but I cannot help thinking that, in reality, there were rather
more; every man in the party, merchants, herdsmen, as well as the cooks
and servants, was mounted, so that, when on the march, they presented
a striking contrast to our sadly reduced little party.
Their daily routine was somewhat as follows. About 4 A.M. the inferior
of the two big merchants would wake up and call to the head cook that
it was time to get up, the latter would then give a loud shout, which
sounded like "Chou-chou, chou-chou, chou-chou-ou-ou!" and which was
promptly echoed by men on guard all through the camp. In a few moments
every one was astir, tents were being struck and yak being loaded; in
an incredibly short space of time this work was completed and the ponies
were being saddled, and in rather under an hour from the word to get up
being given the vast caravan was on the move.
The 1,500 yak were divided into seven distinct companies and moved in
column, each company superintended by the merchants to whom the animals
belonged, and kept in order by the servants and herdsmen under them.
These seven companies were again divided into two wings, one consisting
of four, the other of the remaining three companies. Every day they
marched in the same order, generally with a considerable distance
between the two wings, one moving off some time before the other, but
everything was managed without the slightest noise or confusion. From
the time the watchmen aroused the sleeping camp till the moment of
marching off scarcely a voice was heard; it might then be necessary for
some one of the mounted men to scream at a refractory yak to make him
fall into his proper place; but so little, even of this, was there that,
after the first day or two, we slept peacefully on while our Tibetan
friends passed close by our tent. I am sorry to say that we were never
able to witness their arrival in camp, but we saw enough to convince us
that everything must have been conducted in the same systematic manner
as the morning start.
On arrival in a fresh camp each company drove in its picketing pegs with
ropes attached, so as to form a good large rectangle; in the centre of
this the baggage belonging to the company was carefully piled. Every
load was lifted off the yak, and left ready tied up, so that it had
merely to be placed on the brute's back in the morning, for as each
load was accurately balanced no further tying was necessary. Over the
pile of baggage an awning was pitched, and the servants made themselves
snug little shelters in the middle, where they spread their bedding.
The saddles were removed from the yak, and placed near the baggage, and
then the animals were sent out to graze, a certain proportion of the
attendants being told off to look after them. Then, and not till then,
food was prepared for the first time during the day, for to save time
in the cool of the morning, when only yak can travel with any comfort,
the start was always made on empty stomachs; but now the cooks had got
their fires going, work was over, and the cravings of hunger could be
attended to.
We had no opportunity for seeing what arrangements the lesser merchants
made for rationing their own men, but they were, I imagine, the same
as those made by the Kushok. His plan was as follows:—Each man was
provided with a leathern bag, which held about forty pounds of tsamba,
that is, twenty days' rations. On ration days this was filled up for
him by the cook, and he was at liberty to eat as much or as little as
he pleased. He also had butter in proportion, but whatever he chose
to do with his food no more was issued till next ration day. The cook
brewed tea for all the employés in a huge cauldron, and when ready he
gave a peculiar cry, upon which every man came round the fire, bringing
his own tsamba, butter, and perhaps a little cheese (chura), sugar, or
other delicacy provided out of his own pocket. Bowls were then produced
from the ample folds of the sheepskin gowns, filled up with tea by the
cook, and the meal began. When satisfied, bowls were licked perfectly
clean and replaced in the gowns, and pipes produced. This took place
twice a day, usually about midday and again about half-past four in the
afternoon. About dusk the yak and ponies were brought in from grazing,
and this, too, was a sight well worth seeing. I was enabled one day
to get a photograph with the kodak, but my space does not allow me to
reproduce it here. Most interesting it was to watch how cleverly a very
small number of men could control a vast herd of semi-wild animals. All
the herdsmen were armed with long slings, with which they slung stones
or clods of earth at any stragglers, and the accuracy and strength of
the practice they made, up to about seventy yards, was astonishing. Once
in camp, a very few minutes sufficed for saddles to be adjusted, and
for every yak to be picketed in his proper place ready for a start in
the early morning. If by any chance an animal was missing, his absence
was promptly discovered and reported to the Kushok ; but, while we were
with them, the absentees were always brought in before nightfall.
If there was one thing more than another which aroused our wonder in
connection with this caravan, it was the extraordinary knowledge the
Kushok had of every little thing that went on within it. Outwardly
he appeared to take scarcely any interest in anything. He rarely came
outside his tent, and seemed to spend most of his time in drinking tea
and praying. Nevertheless, nothing occurred without his knowledge, and
he certainly had managed to inspire the lesser merchants and underlings
with the greatest awe of, and respect for, himself. No doubt he was kept
carefully posted in all camp details by his private servant, a regular
little prying busybody; but, even allowing for that, the way he kept
his subordinates in order, without appearing to know or care what went
on, was very remarkable.
Another thing that surprised us considerably was the civility of
everybody in the caravan. Few, if any, of them had seen a European
before, but we were strangely exempt from any offensive curiosity. Later
on, in China, we often wished that we could move about with the same
freedom as we had done in the Kushok's camp, and I am sure that many
a foreigner in England has experienced far greater annoyance from the
inquisitiveness of our fellow-countrymen than did we among these rough
Tibetans. Equally strange was their respect for our property. While
we had been in the wilds we had got into the way of leaving a lot of
baggage outside the tent, the space inside being very limited, and to
our delight we found that we could still do so with perfect safety;
for, although the whole _cortège_ passed our tent every morning, our
cartridges, ropes, saddles, tent pegs, etc., were every bit as safe
lying outside as if they had been inside with us. Enough has been said
of this particular caravan and of its management to show that years of
experience have resulted in an almost perfect system, but a few words
about these caravans in general may not be out of place here.
To begin with, on the Lhassa-Sining route there is no regularly defined
road, but every year the caravans renew various old landmarks, and
set up new ones on prominent features, especially in the vicinity of
the camping grounds. It may sometimes occur that there is no one in
a caravan who has done the journey for two or three years, and if
these landmarks were not carefully kept up, great difficulty might
be experienced in finding sufficient grass and water for the animals,
on whom so much depends. As it is, they frequently have to make long
marches from one camp to another, there being no grass between the two.
The greatest distance they did while we were with them was eighteen
miles, but they told us they often did twenty-five, and even more,
miles in a day. One caravan only leaves from each end every year.[2]
They usually start in May or the beginning of June, and arrive at their
destination, whether it be Lhassa or China, in October, thus getting
the warmest time of year to travel, when grass is fairly plentiful, the
ice is melted, and water easily obtainable.[3] The loads are very light,
rarely being over 120 pounds, and the marches are regulated entirely by
the supply of grass and water. They make the yak travel a great pace,
close on three and half miles an hour, so as to get in before the sun is
very hot, as they say that travelling fast takes less out of them than
travelling in the heat.
A caravan going from Lhassa into China brings the famous pulo cloth,
and great quantities of dried dates (kasur). These come into Lhassa from
Calcutta, so that by the time they reach China they are naturally very
expensive, running, as they do, about fifteen for a rupee, in Chinese
coinage thirty cash a-piece, or a penny each in English money. When
with the caravan we bought a hundred of these dates for two rupees, and
thought we had paid a most exorbitant price, but on arriving in China
we learnt that we had really got them very cheap.
Caravans from China into Lhassa are mostly employed carrying tea, the
main staple of food in Tibet, and a certain amount of tobacco. The
reason why only one caravan goes each way in a year is, that all the
merchants are very much afraid of encountering robbers on the road. They
therefore prefer to wait for one another, and travel in one large body,
to running the risk of being looted _en route_. Very often these large
caravans are employed trading for the Talé Lama, or other high officials
in Lhassa, but whether this is invariably the case, or whether it was so
on this occasion, I am unable to say. In matters of business, as well
as of geography, the Kushok and his servants were very reticent after
the first day or two.
At Tankar, the frontier town of Kansu, there are four Tibetan officials
appointed by the Talé Lama to look after the interests of Tibetan
merchants, and to arrange any difficulties that may arise between
them and the Chinese, in addition to which duty one of the four has to
accompany the tribute to Pekin each year. They thus have plenty to do,
as there are many Tibetans on the Chinese frontier and a big merchant,
such as our acquaintance was, might stay three years or more trading in
China before returning to Lhassa. During that time he is bound to come
in contact with numerous officials, some of whom would undoubtedly pick
quarrels with and extract undue squeezes from him, if he had no official
to whom he could appeal.
* * * * *
On the 11th of September we found the merchants had made such a long
march, that it would be wise for ourselves to make two. The day was
bitterly cold, for it was the coldest march we had experienced, and
during our first halt we felt the weather so severely that Malcolm and
I walked on ahead, leaving the men to bring on the three mules and the
pony, for the men now were quite happy and living on the fat of the
land. As soon as we had reached the merchant's camp, we took shelter
under one of the awnings, and beckoned to Nimbri to tell him we wanted
to take tea with the merchant. Nimbri gave us to understand that if we
wanted to have tea with the merchant, we must pay one rupee for the
pleasure. Having produced this sum, we were soon inside the Kushok's
cosy tent, warming our toes and fingers by the glowing fire as we sipped
our hot tea. Our conversation without Esau was very limited; besides,
as the two merchants were anxious to pray, we soon took the hint and
departed.
During the days spent with the merchant, we used to pay one of his
servants to supply us daily with argols for our fire, although, while
leading a nomad's life, we had always found an inducement and pleasure
to go argol hunting. A well-dried argol was well worth finding, and
we experienced the same delight as a mushroom gatherer in finding an
unusually large one, or a stamp collector in discovering a rare issue.
While pursuing the caravan the next day, we noticed some yak grazing
in a nullah, and only a couple of miles or so from the new camp, and
I thought that if I could shoot one of these, we might induce the
merchants to carry the trophy for us into China. These yak were so
placed that I had no alternative left me but to walk openly up the
valley they were grazing in. They took no notice of me till within 150
yards, when they began to move off, but a single shot from my carbine
knocked over the largest one stone dead. I was somewhat surprised, for
I considered my shot had been directed too far back. On cutting up the
brute, I found I had destroyed his liver, which had been the cause of
his death.
On arrival into camp, I found one of the Kushok's ponies, on which he
placed a high price, was dying. In order to save the animal's life, he
had bought a spoonful of brandy from Malcolm, for a pound of flour. In
this transaction the merchant was certainly the loser.
We learnt that the Kushok intended to remain halted the next day. This
was welcome news to us, for our three mules had not had an entire
day's rest for over two months, and all our writing and mapping was
behindhand. We wanted, too, to purchase more supplies, which operation
with these people always took up a great deal of time. Above all things,
we thought we should be able to take a number of pictures with our
kodak, illustrative of typical scenes in the camp.
The day of rest was a glorious one of peace and sunshine.The smoke from
the different fires curled straight up towards the heavens, and all
seemed to be enjoying the quiet change. On the opposite side of the
valley we could see all the hundreds of yak, resembling at that distance
a large ants' nest. The morning was spent entirely in buying supplies.
The prices had been raised, so that we tried to buy from some of the
minor merchants. But the ever inquisitive Nimbri, on discovering this,
informed his master, who, being all, powerful in the camp, forbade
the selling of any supplies to us except by himself. He made himself
unpleasant with regard to other small matters. We could see it was the
Kushok's intention to bleed us, and we were so placed that we could
not help ourselves, yet, during the morning, he sent us a special
blend of tea. It was certainly first-rate, both a thick and sustaining
drink. During the afternoon we managed to take some snap-shots before
the members of the camp could grasp what our little game was, or, more
correctly speaking, grew suspicious of our intentions.
We were all reinvigorated by the one day's halt, and at daybreak
continued our descent, all the way down a magnificent gorge, the
mountains on either side being very lofty and precipitous. Eventually
the gorge became very narrow, before reaching a well-marked camping
ground of short, green grass. We had come to a district abounding in
scrub and thorn bush two or three feet high. Some of the sticks of
these bushes were an inch in diameter, while the air was scented with
the fragrant smell of herbs. To see vegetation, even of this barren
description, was a pleasant sensation to us, for we had seen no kind
of vegetation bigger than a wild onion, since leaving Niagzu, some four
months ago.
After our breakfast we proceeded on our march, following the dry bed of
a stream, which brought us to a river which we learnt was the Shugatza,
or Shuga Gol. This, strange to say, was flowing in a nearly opposite
direction to that in which we ourselves were going, and was soon lost
to view, hidden by the hills in its north-west course. On the right bank
of the river, to which we had to cross, was the Kushok's camp, with the
yak wandering about in the plain, which was covered with splendid grass.
On the left bank was a range of hills called the Tong Hills.
[Illustration: SOME MEMBERS OF THE KUSHOK'S CAMP.]
We made several attempts at crossing the water, which, although deep
and some thirty yards across, presented the advantage of a firm, stony
bottom. We thought the Kushok might have pointed out the place to cross
by. This, we at length found, was only three feet deep. That night
we had no transactions at all with the merchants, although, curiously
enough, they came to our servants' apology for a tent and hobnobbed with
them.
Our route onwards, which was up-stream of the Shugatza, took us over
fine prairie land, teeming with immense herds of kyang, who, under
the leadership of some chosen stallion, manœuvred round and about us,
often within shooting distance. They seemed in no way to feel this
exceptionally warm day. We were at a very little higher altitude than
Leh itself, and were not sorry to find the merchants had only marched
nine miles, half the distance of the previous day.
We discovered the camp pitched just at the foot of a range of hills,
which protected them from any welcome breeze that might have sprung
up. A small stream trickled from these hills, and formed a pond below.
So still was the atmosphere that the smoke from the several fires was
diffused neither to the right nor to the left, but curled very slowly
upwards. The ponies and yak were either standing knee-deep in the water
or lying about in the grass with no inclination for grazing, while the
men who were not attending to the fires were either asleep in the tents
or stretched out in the open. It was a scene of absolute quiet and
perfect peace.
We soon pitched our little camp, and took our latitude from the midday
sun. As there was no wind we had some trouble in making our fire burn,
so sent a message to the Kushok to ask him kindly to lend us some
bellows. We also inquired if he would allow us to photograph himself
and his own tent, which was always conspicuous in the camp by reason
of the flag that flapped from the end of the pole. To neither of these
requests would he assent. We had half expected that this would be the
case, for the merchants somehow or other wore an air of indifference
to us now, and had given up the friendly turn they first showed towards
us. It might have been the natural behaviour of these men, and perhaps
we were wrong in our surmises, but we felt as though a screw was loose
somewhere.
Later on in the day he sent his servant Nimbri to borrow our frying-pan,
small as it was. We at once saw an opening of showing the merchants that
we were not going to be entirely dependent on them, so sent him back
word that unless he would lend us his bellows each day, we would not
lend him our frying-pan. This had the desired effect, for the merchant
came to see us, and the bargain was struck. Although at the time we
considered this of much importance, it showed how childish both parties
had grown.
Since the time when we had first become acquainted with these merchants,
and learnt that they were going to Barong in the Tsaidam before reaching
Tankar on the Chinese border, we saw the advantage of travelling in
their company, for we were all bound for the same destination. Yet
we could never get any definite or reliable answer as to how far off
Barong was, either from the merchants or from any of the underlings.
In fact, whenever we broached the question, we were always given to
understand that Barong was further off than ever. They would neither
tell us anything about the road or how to find our way there, excepting
that they repeated the intricacies of the route and the impossibility
of finding it by ourselves.
We knew quite well they were desirous that we should travel with them
for two reasons; firstly, that they might bleed us of all our rupees,
and secondly, that they might rely upon our protection against predatory
tribes, such as the Golok, in the neighbourhood of whose country we
should have to march. The Kushok was very fond of our rifles, and
admired them, yet when we offered him one during our bargains, he
explained that it was of no use to him unless we gave him two or three
hundred rounds of ammunition as well, which of course we could not do.
On this day, the 15th of September, the Kushok declared that Barong
was a journey of twenty days distant, but we calculated from our own
observations that it would only take us about a week to get there if we
could but find the way. We knew we were unable to buy food for us all
for twenty more days at his starvation prices, and decided to buy from
him four or five days' rations and then leave the merchants by shoving
on ahead and making longer marches. Of course, our great difficulty
was to know the right way to go, for very often there was absolutely no
clue for miles; and if we once wandered off wrongly, it would mean much
useless meandering over mountains, during which we should probably be
lost altogether. We tried our utmost to gain information about the road
from the servants. One man told one thing and the next something else
directly contrary to what the former had said. A great many of them very
likely really did not know, and those who did had been forbidden by the
Kushok to tell us. An order from the Kushok was not one to be trifled
with, for in this caravan he was omnipotent.
One circumstance that exercised the Kushok's mind was the plane-table
surveying of Shahzad Mir. To ward off suspicion, we purposely marched in
the wake of the merchants; but Shahzad Mir would always arrive in camp a
few minutes after ourselves, carrying the plane-table, and this always
puzzled the Kushok. "Why," he asked, "was Shahzad Mir always made to
come in last carrying this square board? What offence had he committed
to merit such a punishment as this?" He was alluding to the Chinese
penalty for crime of carrying the wooden collar, which is commonly known
to us as the "cangue."
As we had reached a fine grass country, the merchants were going to make
the most of it by allowing their yak plenty of time to graze. On the
16th of September they only marched three miles, and furthermore gave
us to understand that they would remain at rest at this encampment the
following day. They had certainly chosen a very beautiful spot. The camp
was pitched on the richest of pasture land, with hills on either side
of it. There was also a spring of cold, clear water, supplying enough
for all. The stream formed by this spring separated the Tibetans from
ourselves.
As soon as we learnt that it was the intention of the merchants to
remain so long in this place, we grew impatient at what we considered
to be a quite unnecessary delay on their part. So annoyed were we, that
we went to the Kushok's tent and demanded four or five days' supply of
flour and butter, which, up to date, we had only been buying in quantity
sufficient for the day. To our astonishment he flatly refused to sell
us this amount; he would only sell us just enough for present use.
We at once saw the game he was playing. As long as he denied us more
food than we daily required, he felt sure we dare not have faced the
inhospitable and uninhabited solitude of the mountains again without
means of sustenance at hand. We retired after this piece of incivility
to our side of the spring to debate together upon what course to pursue.
We made up our minds that, rather than be in the power or under the
yoke of these Tibetans, we would risk all and launch forth again into
the vast unknown, and thereupon gave orders to our men to prepare for
loading up and marching again that very day.
At this crisis, we became aware that in an instant the camp of
the Tibetans, from a scene of peace and repose, had become one of
excitement, turmoil, and confusion. What on earth had happened? Some men
were scaling the hills; even the Kushok himself had made this the scene
of his contribution to the general hubbub, while others were running
about and fixing their rests in the ground for firing, and were loading
and priming their matchlocks.