TO LAKE LIGHTEN
We left camp No. 9 (16,171 feet) with a feeling of satisfaction, for the
country, as far as the eye could reach, was quite level; its elevation
above the lake shore was so insignificant that it could not be detected
without instruments. The atmosphere was hazy; the pure blue of the lake,
a reflexion of the sky, had quite disappeared, and now the water looked
dull and grey. One of the hired horses was left behind at the camp; its
owner hoped to save it, but he was disappointed, and he also betrayed
the horse, for he took another way home and mercilessly abandoned the
poor animal to solitude and the wolves.
We rode a long distance on the old lake bottom and perfectly level
stretches of clayey mud. Afterwards the soil was of fine gravel, and as
hard as though it had been compressed by the weight of a steam-roller.
Only in an isolated drainage basin can such level expanses occur among
huge mountains. Weathering, precipitation, flowing water, storm and wind
work together in levelling the land. All heights and ridges are thereby
reduced, all hollows are filled up with mud, sand, and rubbish. Far in
the east the country is quite open. Here giants riding on Indian
elephants would have room enough to play a game of polo in grand style,
and the swift-footed Jambas dromedaries might run till they were tired,
for even the restless west wind finds no obstacle in its path. Antelopes
and kulans appeared in timid herds. Of human beings not a sign.
Yesterday some of the men saw three stones placed together to form a
hearth; perhaps they had to do with Crosby's expedition (1903), for he,
too, passed eastwards from the Aksai-chin lake to Lake Lighten.
In the north, on the left side of our route, we could descry three
stages or crests; nearest to us a row of small dark-green hills; farther
off a continuous chain without snow on it, and quite in the background a
main range with a number of snowy peaks. On the south our longitudinal
valley was bordered by mountains gradually increasing in height towards
the east. At camp No. 10 we found all we wanted, though the water was a
little salt. Good luck followed us, and we had reached, quite
fortuitously, a much more kindly country than we had ventured to expect.
Near the camp we crossed a stagnant creek and we passed several others
on September 12. It soon turned out that a large river-bed, containing,
however, little water, ran to the lake, and all day long we fell in with
indications of its proximity. The landscape was monotonous, and showed
little variety during the day's march. But the ground was all that could
be desired, and if it so continued, it would help us to make good
progress into the heart of the forbidden land. Grass now cropped up in
larger quantities than we had hitherto met with. It thrived best where
the soil was sandy. It grew in small tufts, green and succulent only in
the middle, for the rest was yellow and hard from the frosts at night.
The west wind, which swept all day over Tibet, rustled pleasantly
through the grass. Who would have looked for a true prairie up here in
North Tibet? The ground was of a deep straw-yellow, but the vault of
heaven above us was clear and blue in spite of the wind; it seemed to me
as though an immense flag of the colours of my native country enveloped
heaven and earth. North and south rose dark purple, greyish-yellow, red,
and white-capped mountains.
The land was so level that the caravan, though it was an hour's march
ahead, was visible as a short, narrow black line against the horizon,
not the slightest rise ever hiding it from sight. In consequence of the
mirage it seemed to hover a little above the surface, and the animals
looked like fantastic long-legged camels.
[Illustration: 62. THE HIRED LADAKIS AND THE PROVISION SACKS IN
NORTH-WEST CHANG-TANG.]
[Illustration: 63. NAMGYAL WITH A SACK OF YAK-DUNG.]
At a spot where the grass was unusually good the hired detachment had
made a halt; it had lost another horse, and wished to try and save two
other death candidates. The packs were strewed about the ground, the
animals were grazing eagerly, and the men sat at the fire with their
backs to the wind and smoked in turns from a common pipe.
Salt made the soil in some places white as chalk, in others a thin layer
of coarse quartz sand occurred with a tendency to form dunes. The
caravan had encamped, and small scattered black points showed us that
the animals were grazing. A couple of spots, which were far removed from
the others, were riders in search of water. It was not easy to pitch the
tents; all the men must hold on with all their strength, lest the canvas
should be blown away or torn into shreds, and at the same time coarse
sand blew into their faces. We were glad to get under cover at last, but
even then the wind roared and whistled through all the holes and chinks,
and the puppies were very uneasy. But such a westerly storm has one
advantage: it makes the march easier, pushing on behind. One needs only
to turn and try riding against the storm to learn the difference.
The 13th began badly, for nine horses had made off in the night, and
Muhamed Isa with some Ladakis had gone in search of them. Meanwhile we
waited in a regular snowstorm. Manuel was engaged in a very lively
dispute with Ganpat Sing; it was about a pair of stockings which the
latter had bought from our cook in Leh. But now Manuel found that he
could use them himself, and talked over Ganpat Sing to retract the
bargain. Manuel often amused Robert and myself with his broken English.
If it snowed, he said "The dew falls"; if it stormed, "There seems to be
a breeze in the air to-day"; and when we left the lake he asked when we
should come to the next "pond." He thought the Aksai-chin lake a
wretched puddle compared with the boundless ocean at Madras.
After five of the lost horses had been caught I started on the track of
the mules. The land rose as slowly as before, nothing was seen of the
mountains through the drifting snow; we might as well have been on the
plains of Mongolia or the Kirghiz steppe. The camp this day was pitched
by a source at the foot of the mountains on the northern side of the
valley, where there was good pasture. In the absence of a tent we were
housed in Sonam Tsering's round fortification of provision sacks, where
a fire burned in the middle and we were sheltered from the wind. Towards
evening Muhamed Isa sent word that another horse had been recovered, but
that it was impossible to look for the others in the driving snow, and
he asked for furs and provisions from the main camp. The man, however,
whose unenviable duty it was to return with these things to camp No. 11
through the darkness and snow, could not find the caravan-bashi and his
companions, who had therefore to spend the night in the open, exposed to
the frost and without food and drink. They were much exhausted when they
rejoined us next day with all the missing horses. I gave my night
watchmen a scolding, and insisted strongly that this must not occur
again, for the animals were tired by these wanderings and exposed to the
attacks of wolves, and the march was delayed. It was, however, really
wonderful that we had so far lost only a mule and two horses
(Illustration 64).
And now we went on eastwards, still in the same great longitudinal
valley. The river contained more water the higher we mounted, for below
the water was lost by evaporation and percolation into the ground.
The red conglomerate continued on our right, on the left were green
schists. In the midst of the sterile valley we passed a small round
oasis of grass, like a coral island in the ocean. The day's storm
brought us rain and muggy weather; about mid-day it poured down and the
thermometer marked 39°. All was uncomfortably wet and dirty when we
formed our camp, and the damp fuel would not catch fire. Then it began
to snow, and late in the evening the country was again clothed in wintry
white. We had hoped in vain to reach the saddle whence Lake Lighten
might be seen. According to Wellby's map it might be still a couple of
days' march off, but under favourable circumstances it must be visible
from a long distance.
[Illustration: 64. SHELTER OF PROVISION SACKS.]
[Illustration: 65. CAMP IN A NARROW VALLEY (CAMP 41).]
[Illustration: 66. ROBERT, MUHAMED ISA, AND TWO SERVANTS BY A FIRE.]
Icy east wind blew next day. It was cold and raw as it passed over
the snowfields, and the vile weather was not only uncomfortable
physically, but it had a depressing effect on the spirits, so that we
sat listlessly in the saddle, were sleepy and indifferent, and longed
for the brazier in the evening. The antelopes were bolder than usual; at
this season they are fat and strong. We rode past a horse which had
fallen and died on the track; nothing could have been done for him. He
lay with wide-opened eyes as though looking for a land in the east, and
he was still quite warm. The pack-saddle had proved useful, for Muhamed
Isa had thoughtfully had all the saddles stuffed with hay for future
use. So the animals could little by little consume their own
pack-saddles. In camp two sheep were slaughtered, for they showed signs
that they would not hold out much longer.
In the morning a dying horse lay among the tents. A wolf crouched in a
side valley, watching our departure and looking forward to a grand meal;
but he would not have the pleasure of killing the horse, for we put an
end to its life with a knife. We had now entered on a critical period,
for scarcely a day passed without our losing one or more of our animals.
We still mounted slowly eastwards, and, trusting to Wellby's map, I had
promised my people that they should this day get sight of a lake. We
ascended a rise in the ground, but from the summit only another was
visible, which quite blocked up the view, and when we had surmounted
this there was a third in front of us. Now, however, our expectations
were no longer to be disappointed. Part of the blue lake appeared in the
east-south-east, encased in hills. On its southern shore, where Wellby
had travelled in 1896, rose singular irregular points and groups, the
continuation of the red snowy range which we had seen for several days
past, and now, in fine weather, stood out in all its wild beauty. We had
mounted for six days towards the expected pass, and found it just above
the lake. Its height was 17,300 feet.
Now the horses were so exhausted that we must find good pasture at any
cost, and let the animals rest a few days. Camp No. 15 was pitched on
the strand, and afforded a view over all the lake. To the south rose
the singular range in shades of yellowish-red and scarlet, pink, and
light brown, and fantastic precipitous rocks stood out between soft
snowfields of a glistening bluish tinge.
Camp No. 15 was to be a notable station in our bold raid into the
forbidden land (Illustration 57). We had scarcely got things in order
when the last eight of the hired Tankse men, attended by Muhamed Isa,
appeared before my tent, fell on their knees after the Ladak custom,
touched the ground with their foreheads, and then sat motionless as
images while their leader and foreman spoke as follows:
"Sahib, we have nineteen horses left; eight of them are still strong,
but the rest will not last much longer. Oh, Sahib, let us return home
before winter comes and our animals perish."
"It was agreed that you should accompany us as far as the Yeshil-kul; do
you mean to break your word?"
"Sahib, we know that we are in your hands, and are dependent on your
favour; our provisions will not last more than ten days; if we go as far
as Yeshil-kul we shall all die on the return journey. Oh, Sahib, have
pity on us, and let us go home."
"Very well. If I let you go, which road will you take?"
"Sahib, we will travel over the mountains here in the south, and pass by
Arport-tso to the Lanak-la, which one can reach in ten days."
"Can you find your way, and are you sure that your supplies will last
out?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then make ready to start." Turning to Muhamed Isa I continued: "Manuel
and the two Rajputs cannot bear this climate, and it is best to let them
go also before the cold winter comes."
Muhamed Isa was a diplomatist, and tried to conceal his satisfaction as
he answered: "Yes, if we take them with us farther into the country in
winter they will freeze to death. Already they crawl together like
marmots to the fire, and yet their teeth chatter and they tremble from
cold in their furs."
"We can easily do without them."
"Hitherto they have done no more work than the puppies, or, rather,
less, for they are either too lazy or too grand to collect fuel for
their own fire; two of our Ladakis have to attend on them and their
horses. It would be a great gain if we were quit of them."
"Let them go, and then we shall have the use of their horses, for I can
hire some of the Tankse horses to be at their disposal on the journey to
Ladak."
"Yes, sir, they have three saddle-horses, besides two others for their
baggage. We are now losing the Tankse horses, some of which, indeed,
have only carried fuel, but, by their departure, the baggage to be
carried by our own horses will be increased by fifteen other packages.
Therefore the black men's horses are a very necessary reinforcement."
Next day the plates and rock specimens, to be forwarded to Srinagar,
were packed up, and I wrote letters home and to friends in India. I
begged Colonel Dunlop Smith to send after me, in October, to the
neighbourhood of Dangra-yum-tso, with the permission of the Viceroy, all
letters that had come for me up to that time. They must be sent through
Gyangtse and Shigatse, and the Tashi Lama, who had recently been so well
received in India, would certainly be very pleased to see that the
post-bag was transmitted to me. I thought that, even if I were forbidden
to travel further in the interior of Tibet, my letters would not be held
back--at the worst I could make the forwarding of the mail a condition
of the acceptance of the demands of the Tibetans. I accordingly
requested that a post-runner should receive orders to reach
Dangra-yum-tso at the end of November, there to await my arrival.
On the morning of September 17 three of our own horses lay dead among
the tents. The following night the great spotted Yarkand horse, which
had carried our boat, died (Illustration 67). When the sun rose on the
19th two more victims had followed the others, and lay, with neck and
legs outstretched, frozen hard after a night frost of a degree below
zero. I summoned Muhamed Isa.
"How many more animals have we?"
"We have 83: 48 horses and 35 mules; 10 horses and a mule have died."
"It will be bad if this dying goes on at the same rate as in the last
three days."
"I do not think it will, Sahib; the weakest have succumbed, the
strongest remain."
"But six horses are gone, and that means six more loads for the
survivors, besides the fifteen of the Tankse horses."
"The six fallen horses have carried nothing during the last few days."
"But at any rate the loads will now be heavier."
"Since we have been camping here I have given the animals double
measures of maize and barley, partly to strengthen them, partly to
lighten the loads. On the first days, when we start from here, we must
make short marches, and rather let the horses eat their fill than throw
away a single sack of barley."
"Good. We have 510 English miles before us to the Dangra-yum-tso, and
that makes 51 days' marches at the rate of 10 miles a day. If 15 days of
rest be added, we should arrive at the lake on November 25, that is, in
two months and six days. The mules seem hardier than the horses; we must
try to keep a stock of strong mules; later on we shall contrive
something when we have met the first nomads."
"Oh, yes, if it comes to the worst the Ladakis can carry what is
absolutely necessary, and we can all go on foot."
"Yes, Muhamed, remember that I shall certainly not turn back unless I am
compelled by superior force."
"No, I know that; all will be well."
[Illustration: 67. THE LARGE PIEBALD YARKAND HORSE.]
[Illustration: 68, 69. THE SLAIN YAKS: TUNDUP SONAM, THE HUNTER, ON THE
LEFT IN 68.]
Four horse-loads of maize and barley were consumed in this camp; and
henceforth a horse-load would be used daily, not including the men's
rations. But probably we should also lose a horse a day, often, perhaps,
two or more. Still, there always remained a chance of finding better
pasturage, where the horses might recover their strength, when we turned
off to the south-east. We had at present no ground for complaint. The
hired horses had done us very great service. We were able to leave the
western shore of Lake Lighten with 83 laden animals. Two horses were
required for our boat and all its appurtenances, but I intended to
spare them a couple of days, and let the boat be taken over the lake.
So far we had succeeded in keeping our stages well in advance, and that
was good. Wellby, Deasy, Rawling, and Zugmayer, who were all in this
region, and brought back such excellent, meritorious results, had here
and at Yeshil-kul caravans in a far less efficient condition than mine.
Leh and Tankse were my starting-points. But the last connections with
them were severed at Lake Lighten, and here commenced a bold march
towards an unknown destiny.