TIBET & NEPAL
PAINTED & DESCRIBED
BY
A. HENRY SAVAGE LANDOR
PUBLISHED BY A. & C. BLACK
SOHO SQUARE·LONDON·W
Published January 1905
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. Yellow Lamas with Prayer-Wheels Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
2. The Sacred Swings of Debi Dhura 16
3. An Awkward Moment 22
4. A Daramsalla 30
5. A Moment of Suspense 34
6. Red Lamas 44
7. Tibetan Man spinning Wool 46
8. A Nepalese Shoka 48
9. A Nepalese Lady 52
10. A Nepalese Woman 58
11. A Typical Native of N.W. Nepal 60
12. The Elfrida Landor Glacier, Nepal 64
13. Funnels in the Moraine Ice 68
14. The Armida Landor Glacier, Nepal 70
15. Author’s Camp, Nepal 74
16. One of the Lumpa Peaks and part of the Charles Landor
Glacier 78
17. Deep Crevasses in the Glacier Ice 80
18. Rocks of all Sizes rolled with great Force down the
Mountain Side 82
19. The Birth of an Avalanche 84
20. A Perilous Crossing 86
21. A. Henry Savage Landor and the Four Men who accompanied
him on his Ascent to 23,490 feet above Sea-Level 90
22. The Highest Mountain Altitude ever reached by a Human
Being 92
23. Within an Ace of being precipitated some 6500 feet on
to the Glacier below 96
24. The Lumpa Basin and Charles Landor Glacier 98
25. A Balancing Feat 100
26. Moraine of Glacier and Mountains, showing how Clouds
form on the Snow-Line 102
27. Erecting Chokdens (Cairns) on the Savage Pass 106
28. Night-marching in a Storm 108
29. A Sea of Mist 110
30. Elongated Shadows on a Sea of Mist 112
31. Concentric Circles of Radiant Beauty formed by the
Sun shining through Mist 114
32. Clouds forming on the Snow-Line 116
33. Author’s Tents. A Camp in Nepal 118
34. The Tinker Pass, Nepal-Tibet 122
35. Flying Prayers and a Mani Wall 124
36. A Tibetan Baby Girl 126
37. A Tibetan Girl 128
38. Tibetan Woman of the Commoner Class 130
39. Tibetan Lady 132
40. An Old Lady and her Prayer-Wheel 134
41. Tibetan Dogs 136
42. A Tibetan Camp of Black Tents 138
43. Interior of a Tibetan Tent, showing Churn for mixing
Tea with Butter 140
44. A Little Boy learning to Pray 142
45. Interior of Tibetan Temple 144
46. Tibetan Women weaving 146
47. Tibetan Women cleaning Wool 148
48. A Lama Standard-Bearer 150
49. A Race for the Kata 154
50. Tibetan Soldier at Target Practice 156
51. Tibetan Woman using a Sling for throwing Stones 158
52. Tibetan Games. Stone-Throwing 160
53. Tobogganing made easy 162
54. Tibetan Dance with Sword and Kata (Veil of Friendship) 164
55. A Typical Tibetan 166
56. Woman and Child praying before a Shrine inside a Tent 170
57. Tibetan Boy in his Gold-embroidered Hat 172
58. A Brigand 174
59. A Tibetan Spy in the Disguise of a Beggar approaching
the Author’s Camp 176
60. “Chakzal, Chakzal.” The Tibetan Salutation 178
61. A Picturesque Old Fellow 180
62. An Ambidexter Lama Sculptor carving an Inscription
on the Face of a Rock 182
63. A Weird Old Man of N.W. Nepal 186
64. Over a Pass in a Coming Storm 188
65. Calling Two Followers lost in the Storm 190
66. Tibetan Goat 192
67. A Troublesome Descent on Vertical Rocks 194
68. A Phantom Lion of Gigantic Proportions 198
69. The Nui Glacier 202
70. Ascent to the Nui Pass 204
71. Observations for Altitude taken under Difficulties
on the Nui Pass, Darma 208
72. A Shrine of Curious Buddha Images 212
73. The Sacrifice of a Yak 222
74. Goats carrying Loads of Borax 224
75. Yaks and Ponies conveying Wool across the Frontier 226
CHAPTER I
“Once you have visited the snows of the Himahlyas,” said a venerable
old man of Kumaon to me, “you will have to return to them time after
time until you die. When away from them, all through your life you will
ever see them before you in your dreams.”
Well, that was quite so; and that is what everybody feels who has spent
some time on the higher elevations of that majestic range of mountains.
To any one who appreciates Nature in all its grandeur, the fascination
is so great that everything else in the way of scenery sinks into
perfect insignificance by their side.
It is, to my mind, rather a pity that in England people have not yet
learnt to call that range by its proper and poetic name “Himahlyas,” by
which the range is known all over Asia, instead of the distorted
“Himalayas,” which has no meaning whatever except to natives of these
foggy little islands. The Americans, I am glad to say, when the
corrected pronunciation was pointed out, at once accepted it, and it is
now taught in all the schools.
Two years had elapsed since my first journey across Tibet, and I was
still suffering greatly from the effects of the tortures and wounds
which had been inflicted upon me during my captivity in the Forbidden
Land. Nor did banquets and receptions and interviewers,
autograph-collectors, etc., much help to rebuild my constitution. In
fact, while in London, instead of improving I was getting weaker and
more of an invalid every day.
In doctors I have no superabundant faith, but somehow or other felt
that a little change from the monotony of a civilised existence, in the
shape of chasing about their country some of my Tibetan friends who had
tortured me, might possibly be of some benefit to my health. And if you
take it into your head that something will do you good, it is not
unusual that some sort of a cure results from it.
So, again I bundled my blankets, my surveying instruments, several
cameras, and hundreds of plates, provisions, and painting materials,
and by the first P. and O. steamer sailed for Bombay. From that place I
went by rail to Kathgodam, thence by trail to the hill-station Almora
in the North-West Provinces, which I again made my starting-point, as
in the first journey.
Perhaps it may interest the reader to know that the entire
preparations, the selection of all my followers, the purchase of an
excellent Tibetan pony, and of all the outfit and provisions to last my
men several months, were accomplished in the short space of twelve
hours.
The selection of men for the type of expeditions I undertake, in which
abnormal endurance is required, is not an easy matter, but I was
particularly fortunate on that occasion. Big athletic fellows I
generally avoid as absolutely useless for work requiring steady
endurance and quick perception. I gave preference to small, determined,
wiry men, light in weight, supple and quick in their movements.
Having satisfied myself that they were perfectly sound in lungs, heart,
and digestive organs—they were, indeed, too sound in the latter
respect—we were ready to start the following day. Each man carried a
weight of 20 seers (or 40 lbs.), a light load, as I intended doing
double and treble marches daily.
It was my intention to do a considerable amount of mountaineering en
route, and I did it; but, contrary to the usual custom of British
mountaineering expeditions (which set out with much flourish of
trumpets) I did not burden myself with the company of Swiss Alpine
guides. Here is the reason. I am well aware that it impresses a good
many brainless folks to hear that an expedition to the Andes or the
Himahlyas is accompanied, even led, by Swiss guides; but to any real
mountaineer (I do not mean members of Alpine Clubs) the very fact that
the members of such an expedition require guides at all is but a plain
avowal that they have no faith in themselves, besides displaying a most
infantile ignorance of how to find their way about. No mountaineer, who
is a real mountaineer, ever needs to be told which is the best way to
go up a mountain which is before him. His very instinct and observation
tell him.
Let me remind you that the characteristics of mountains in different
parts of the world vary to a considerable extent. It therefore seems to
me that to employ a man (however fine a fellow he may be) who has spent
his life hauling hysterical Alpinists by a much-beaten trail up Mont
Blanc or the Matterhorn, to show the way up a virgin Himahlyan peak, is
as delightfully absurd as it would be to charter an untravelled London
cabman to show you with intelligence the sights of Moscow, or Bagdad,
or Jerusalem! Do not forget, too, that Mont Blanc or the Matterhorn are
perfectly insignificant hills when compared to peaks in the Himahlyas.
As you know, the chief hobby and boast of certain Alpinists is to climb
mountains by impracticable ways. This practice is to be condemned. In
plain words, any man who tries to go up a mountain by any but the
easiest way is an idiot, and should be confined to a lunatic asylum.
When difficulties arise, and many do, naturally they have to be
overcome as best one can. Then again, there are many feats in
mountaineering and rock-climbing which appear very dangerous and are
not dangerous at all to any one with steady head, heart, and legs; but
the absurd mania of obtaining notoriety by going up a peak by a
dangerous route when an easier way exists has no more sense in it than
were a horseman to try and ride his horse under its tail instead of
upon its back! It is not real sport, and sport, above all things,
should never be purposeless nor foolish.
Mountaineering, by any one in full possession of all his senses, is a
delightful amusement, and possibly the pleasantest, healthiest, and
most instructive exercise in existence. It develops every muscle in
one’s body, makes one quick of sight and hearing, expands, cleans, and
purifies one’s lungs, and it makes one—when dependent on oneself—a
quick observer and a subtle student of Nature, its forces, and the ways
of elements and how to counterbalance them. It should, therefore, be
encouraged in any one born for the work; but, on the other hand, should
be left severely alone by any one not specially constructed for the
work by Mother Nature. It can but mean disaster in the end, and it
generally does.
Unfortunate, too, is the man who in “exploring mountaineering” follows
the rules and regulations laid down by theoretical but inexperienced
amateurs of certain Alpine institutions. A practical mountaineer has
nothing to learn from such misleading publications, whether brought out
under the patronage of Clubs or by some enterprising charlatan or
other. The constant suggestions to provide oneself with all sorts of
expensive and cumbersome tools, axes, alpenstocks, and other
impedimenta are merely to swell the pockets of advertisers who support
those publications, rather than to safeguard the life of intending
mountaineers.
Personally, and I am speaking from a somewhat extensive experience, I
owe my success and the lack of serious accidents in any of my
mountaineering expeditions absolutely to the using none of the
appliances recommended by Alpine clubs. I mention this at the outset to
prevent the usual criticisms accusing me of having neglected
precautions. It was done wilfully on my part, because, as far as
mountaineering is concerned, I prefer to use what little common-sense I
possess in preference to accepting the large amount of nonsense offered
by other people.
I had spared no expense and trouble to obtain the best scientific
instruments possible for taking observations, and they were specially
manufactured for me, light in weight and extra strong, and with special
cases to protect them from injury in the roughest of travelling. My
instruments were tested at the Kew Observatory—both before going out of
and after my return to England—and found in perfect condition.
All altitudes of importance were invariably measured with the
hypsometrical apparatus, several boiling-point thermometers being
successively used in the observation. For differential heights of no
great significance aneroids were used. All bearings were taken with a
prismatic compass, and for latitude and longitude a 6-inch sextant was
used, a chronometer watch, mercury and plate-glass artificial horizons.
Necessarily, I carried maximum and minimum thermometers and all
necessary instruments and appliances for surveying work, photography,
painting, etc. Several rifles and double-barrelled guns, a revolver,
eight thousand rounds of ammunition, and ten pounds of gunpowder were
carried, in case we had to do some shooting; while each man was given a
large Gurkha kukri for his own protection.
For our needs I carried money in solid silver and gold. My tinned
provisions were prepared for me in London, and were very good. All my
most valuable possessions were packed in air-tight cases of my own
design, which, as on previous journeys, I found answered very well.
A Tibetan tent, 7 feet high, 10 feet long, and 8 feet wide, twelve
pounds only in weight; a small tente d’abri, and some shelters formed
my camp.
Last, but not least, let me give some advice regarding your clothing
when you go mountaineering. Do not masquerade for the occasion in fancy
tweeds of startling cut, clumsy mufflers and gloves, and patent
hobnailed boots. Wear the sort of clothes and footgear you are
accustomed to put on every day. You will feel a great deal more
comfortable, less ridiculous, and certainly a great deal safer.
Personally, I wear the same sort of clothing—serge suits of the
thinnest tropical material—in any country and in any climate, with no
underwear; thin socks, shoes of medium weight with no nails under the
soles. I am very fortunate in one way, never feeling the slightest
inconvenience through intense heat or cold. It is partly due, I think,
to one’s constitution and circulation of one’s blood, partly to habit,
and a good deal to being hardened through constant roughing.
Perhaps others, with not so rough a training, may not go quite so far;
but never forget that the more you feel at your ease in your attire,
the less you are hampered with articles of any kind which you are not
accustomed to use every day, the more successful you will be in your
mountaineering expeditions—especially on unknown mountains.