OUR FORTUNES ON THE WAY TO THE BOGTSANG-TSANGPO
During the preceding five days we had covered forty-two miles in a
direction 33 degrees east of south, and on November 22 travelled a
little farther on the same course. We are now on a great, easily
recognizable road, consisting of about fifty paths running parallel to
one another, which have been worn by the sheep of the salt caravans and
the yaks of the gold-diggers. In the country Kebechungu, where nomads
were encamped, our new friends turned back. In this part of Tibet the
sharply-defined configuration of the mountains occurring farther east,
where longitudinal valleys alternate with lateral ranges, does not
prevail. Here one travels day after day among crowded hills of gentle
outline, and small, level expanses are much less common. No lofty
commanding mountain masses rise above this maze, and the eye searches in
vain for the isolated, glaciated summits seen in East Tibet.
The weather had been quite calm during the season of severe cold, but
when the storms returned at night, the temperature fell only to -4.7°
Next day it was hard riding. We marched to the south-south-east in a
strong south-west storm, and were almost suffocated in the gusts of
dust-laden air which swept along the ground. We suffer greatly and
cannot use our hands, the map-sheet is torn in pieces, and we wonder if
we shall live to reach the next camp. Our faces are distorted and assume
quite a different expression, for we involuntarily draw the facial
muscles together in the wind, to protect the eyes, producing a quantity
of fresh wrinkles which are filled with white dust. The eyes are
bloodshot and water, tears run down the cheeks, catch the dust, and
freeze. The lips swell and burst, and the skin round the nails cracks so
that the finger-tips bleed.
At last, more dead than alive, we reach the camp, where the men have,
with great exertion, set up Muhamed Isa's tent, and after many attempts
have induced the fire to burn, which, now that it has caught, blazes
with flickering tongues of flame and scatters sparks all round into the
gyrations of the whirlwind. We hasten to restore our circulation, but
that takes time. By degrees our facial muscles recover their elasticity
and return to their proper position, and we regain our former aspect;
there is no longer a twitch at the corners of our mouths when we laugh,
though, indeed, we have precious little cause for laughter. Half-a-dozen
of our remaining mules come up, attracted by the warmth. Sonam Tsering
wishes to drive them away, but I let the poor frozen creatures stay. The
fewer they become, the more carefully we look after the survivors, and
are always hoping to reach more hospitable country. There is, indeed,
little hope of it; the barley and maize are almost consumed, and there
is only one sack of rice left.
In such nights one longs for a warm bed. The noise outside is as though
artillery waggons were racing over a pavement of undressed stones. The
wind comes in gusts as though driven by pulsations. A gust is heard
whistling through the grass and dying away in the distance, only to be
followed by another which rushes down the mountains like a waterfall,
and seems determined to carry away the tent with it in its headlong
flight. One does not look back with regret on the day now drawing to a
close, but longs to get away--away from the Chang-tang.
November 24. In a month it will be Christmas Eve. Shall we remain
together so long? At the former camp the animals had no water, and at
to-day's camping-place also we found nothing but hard ice at the mouth
of a very narrow gorge, and consequently two mules passed away in the
night, and a third followed them in the morning. My dapple-grey was
suffering; I now rode a tall, yellowish horse which had carried the
boat, and afterwards the box of cooking utensils. The latter was
transferred to a mule, but he died before the next camp and a horse had
to fetch the box.
Four mules in one day! We had now only eight. The yaks, the splendid
yaks, carried all the baggage. When we left the bodies a troop of wolves
sneaked out of the ravines. Islam Ahun, who had travelled with Robert
and myself since Rehim Ali's adventure, tried to frighten them away, but
in vain. Four great vultures had already mutilated one of the corpses;
they must have begun early, for they were already satiated, and
staggered slowly away as we rode past. The ravens waited at some
distance for their turn to come.
Of 58 horses and 36 mules, 12 and 8 respectively now remained. The ratio
between the survivors was therefore nearly the same as between the
original numbers. It would, however, be hasty to infer that mules are as
efficient as horses in the highlands of Tibet. Had we had small, tough
Sanskar horses in the place of the Yarkand horses, the result would
certainly have been in favour of the horses. On the other hand, our
mules came from Poonch. Had we had Tibetan mules, they would probably
have held out better than the horses. But Tibetan mules are seldom to be
found in Ladak.
Lower down the valley we came to a _mani-ringmo_, a stone cist covered
with _mani_ slabs, and our men became quite lively at the sight, for it
reminded them of their home. We rode up a height with an extensive view.
To the south-east appeared rather a large lake, begirt with white fields
of gypsum and terraces. Crossing three rocky ridges running out to its
western shore, we reached the southern bank, where we encamped. This
must be the Rinakchutsen ("The hot spring of the Black Mountain"), for
every detail agreed with the description given us by Lobsang Tsering.
The date is November 25, the day I had fixed on, when with Colonel
Dunlop Smith, as the most likely date of our arrival at the
Dangra-yum-tso. The post must therefore be at the lake long before us.
The post? We did not know whether we should find on the shore a
hospitable tent or an impenetrable wall of soldiers and horses and a
fence of matchlocks.
This is the lake which Dutreuil de Rhins discovered in 1893 and named
"Lac Ammoniac." We did not cross his route, for he skirted the lake on
the east, we on the west side. But just to the south of the lake we
crossed Bower's route of the year 1891. We shall again remain for some
days in unknown country until we intersect Littledale's track of the
year 1895, mine of 1901, and Nain Sing's of 1873.
In the night the temperature sank to -27.8°, the greatest cold we had
hitherto experienced. We were, however, advancing southwards to lower
regions. Though the winter still continued, it could scarcely bring us
lower temperatures. For four days we travelled towards the noonday sun,
slowly marching over passes and through winding valleys, over small
plains, where kiangs enjoyed their free delightful life, over a
hard-frozen river, and by springs, round which emerald-green ice
glittered in the sun, past a flock of sheep and four tents, and finally
we emerged on to an open plain, enclosed by mountains, which sloped
towards the south and contained in the middle a lake nearly dried up,
where the crystallized salt and gypsum emitted a brilliancy like that of
fresh-fallen snow.
The country was called Mogbo-dimrop; at the foot of the red mountains we
descried six black tents surrounded by stone walls. Namgyal and Tundup
Sonam found only eight inhabitants, children, boys, and old men, for the
strong men and women had gone out with the cattle. These nomads belonged
to the province of Naktsang, and were under the rule of the Devashung,
the Government in Lhasa, and therefore could give us no information
about the country near the Dangra-yum-tso, where the nomads are under
the administration of Tashi-lunpo. They would be very glad to sell us
yaks and sheep if we would be so good as to wait here till the next day.
Then Muhamed Isa went off to the tents, and came back full of gloomy
forebodings. An elderly man from a neighbouring group of tents had come
to warn the others. He had declared in sharp commanding tones: "We know
that you have a European with you, and to such our land is closed. We
cannot stop you at present, but we shall take care not to sell you yaks
or sheep, and we cannot give you any information. It would be better for
you to make haste back again, or you will get into trouble."
"We are on the way to the Tashi Lama, who is expecting us."
"Here we have nothing to do with the Tashi Lama; we are under the direct
rule of the Government in Lhasa."
Tundup Sonam, who had also gone to the tents, noticed that two youths
were absent, and was convinced that they had been despatched as express
messengers to the nearest _Bombo_ or chief, in the south. We must
therefore make all haste to reach a district which was under the control
of Tashi-lunpo.
Later on a wanderer came to our camp. He was ragged and miserable, and
said that he was one of a party of 35 pilgrims from Nakchu, who with 600
sheep and 100 yaks had visited the holy lake and mountain in
Ngari-korsum, and were now on their way home to Nakchu, where they would
arrive in three months. The pilgrimage takes two years or more to
accomplish, for the people remain for days, and often weeks, together
where there is good pasturage. They followed the north side of the
Chargut-tso along an old established pilgrim route.
[Illustration: 89. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" THEY ASKED ME.]
We broke up our camp early on December 1, with a temperature of -24.2°,
which cost us the loss of another mule. He was at once devoured by the
wolves, which were so bold that they did not go away when we rode past.
When we had accomplished about half our march we came to a tent of which
two snappy light yellow dogs seemed to be the only masters. But no doubt
the inmates were afraid to show themselves, and examined us only through
their spy-holes. Near this day's camp there were more tents, and my
usual dealers obtained two yaks, three sheep, and a can of dirty milk.
Before the Tibetans would deal, they first inquired whether there was
not a _Peling_ (a European) in our party, and declared that they would
visit our camp to convince themselves that such was not the case. The
answer given them was that the principal personage in our company was
a _Kalun_, or high official, from Ladak, and that we had several
dangerous dogs. On that they gave up their visit. But when we started
off two of them were present, one of whom Muhamed Isa took as a guide.
The other remained standing by us and looked at me, trying to find out
whether I was a _Peling_ or a _Kalun_. He was certainly doubtful, for he
looked exceedingly disturbed as we rode off.
This day Robert and I lost our way. We had taken the Hajji as guide, but
he lost the trail, and stupidly wandered about aimlessly. As he had to
seek for the track again, we settled down on an open space beside a
fire, while the storm roared above our heads and dark threatening
snow-clouds swept over the mountains to the north. At last Muhamed Isa
became uneasy and sent out scouts, who at length found us out.
Camp No. 77 was situated in the higher part of a lateral valley, where a
spring was frozen into huge clumps of ice. At the fire we encountered
two strangers in red turbans, round which their locks were twisted, with
ivory rings, silver image cases, and fur coats trimmed with red and
green ribands; they were armed with sabres encased in silver-mounted
scabbards, richly encrusted with inferior coral and turquoise; they wore
new coloured felt boots, and had their black muskets hanging from their
shoulders. They belonged to the troop of pilgrims from Nakchu. Our
Ladakis, however, were convinced that they were come to spy upon us. If
we seemed too strong for them, they would only ask--as, in fact,
happened--if we had anything to sell; otherwise they would steal our
horses. Meanwhile they behaved very civilly, were exceedingly friendly,
and promised to return next morning with some yaks and sheep, which we
might buy.
"We will remain near you till it is dark and will return before
daybreak, for if any one saw us trading with a _Peling_, we should pay
dearly for it."
"You need not be afraid, we shall not betray you," I said.
"Even if you did betray us, Bombo Chimbo, we should not be easily
caught. There are many pilgrims on the way to the holy mountain
Kang-rinpoche (Kailas)."
"You may be quite at ease. Come with your animals, and you shall be well
paid."
"Good. But tell me, are you not the _Peling_ who came five years ago
with two companions to Nakchu, and was compelled by the Governor to turn
back?"
"Yes, that was I."
"We did not see you ourselves, but all the province was talking about
you, and you had Shereb Lama as a guide. You had also a large caravan
with camels and several Russians in your service."
"How can you remember all that?"
"Oh, it was repeatedly said that it would be a marvel if you escaped the
robbers."
I clearly perceived from this not very flattering popularity that, if
the common people were so well informed of my doings, the authorities
would find it easy to follow my track. Now the Tibetans knew that it was
I, and no one else, who was penetrating to the heart of the forbidden
land. How speedily this fact would be transmitted to the south! How
quickly would the Devashung bring us to a halt! Where would our grand
progress come to a standstill, checked by a peremptory "Thus far and no
farther," backed up by muzzle-loaders and sabres? Ah, where would my
dreams again be shattered and my aspirations cease to pulsate?
In the morning, when the pilgrims had returned, I was waked early and
went out to view the market that had been created in the wilderness as
by an enchanter's wand. The sun had not yet risen above the mountains,
the camp lay in icy-cold shadow, and the air was dull and raw. The smoke
circled round the fires in suffocating density, and through it I saw six
splendid yaks with wooden saddles. The Tibetans in their picturesque
costume, with sabres jingling at their sides, knives and amulets,
gesticulated vehemently, and in a torrent of well-chosen words extolled
the exceptional qualities of the grunting oxen. The result of the affair
was that all six yaks passed into our possession, and we also bought two
packets of brick-tea, a bag of Bhotan tobacco, and a couple of bladders
of butter. Robert piled up the shining silver coins in rows at the door
of my tent, and the eyes of the Tibetans shone with delight at the
sight of so much money, and at hearing the ring of the silver. An empty
tin and a tin cigarette box found their way, as usual, into the front of
their fur coats.
"Do you know the way to the south?" I asked.
"Yes, we know it well."
"If you are disposed to accompany us, you shall receive three rupees a
day."
"We should like to, but we dare not."
"What are you afraid of?"
"We have heard that to the south of this pass the country has been
roused and that soldiers are being collected to render your further
journey impossible. We must go quickly northwards. Our people are
already ahead."
"Where do you think that the soldiers are waiting for us?"
"That no one knows, but it is certain that they are gathering together."
"What, in your opinion, do they mean to do with us?"
"They will prevent you going farther southwards, but will do you no
harm."
"How do you know that?"
"Because the Bombo Chimbo was friendly last time, and did not refuse to
march westwards when he was required to do so."
"Which way will they ask us to take this time?"
"Probably the same as before, to Ladak."
The silver money rattled in the tin boxes as they mounted and
disappeared down the valley, while we, now owners of eighteen fine yaks,
struggled laboriously up the small steep pass overlooking camp No. 77.
We had a wide view southwards over side ranges separated from one
another by broad valleys. But it was not long before heavy snow drove us
away. Numbed with cold, we rode down to the level country.
From the plain the Hajji pointed back to the pass, where three riders
showed black against the snow; they rode down at a smart trot and soon
overtook us. Their black, snorting horses steamed, they carried guns at
their shoulder-belts, and sabres in their girdles. Their reddish-purple
mantles were rolled up on the saddle behind them, and they rode in
sheepskins, black and greasy from the soot of camp-fires, and the blood
and fat of slaughtered game, which in the course of years had hardened
into a smooth crust intersected with cracks. As we were the object of
their ride, they followed at our heels, slackened their pace, and rode
up to my side. A coarse fellow asked shortly and boldly (Illustration
89):
"What are you?"
"Pilgrims."
"Where do you come from?"
"From Ladak."
"Whither are you travelling?"
"To the Dangra-yum-tso."
"People from Ladak never come from the north."
"That is quite possible, but we come from the north. Where have you been
yourself?"
"With relatives who are camping to the east. We have two more days'
journey before we reach home."
Then they spurred their horses and rode after the caravan, which was
encamped at the foot of a rock. Here they let their horses graze,
behaved as though they were at home, and subjected Muhamed Isa to the
same cross-examination. Shortly before sunset they rode off westwards.
We had an uncomfortable feeling that something ominous, something
decisive, was brewing, and that our fate might perhaps be settled next
day. For it was clear as day that the men must have been spies. They
were a patrol of the numerous express messengers sent into all the
valleys by orders from Lhasa to beat up the men fit for military
service. Soon these incorruptible riders would crop up like mushrooms
from the ground.
The camp No. 78 and the weather were in harmony with our mood as we
awaited our fate. There was no pasturage, only ice, and the fuel was
scanty. Opaque clouds obscured the sky, snow was falling on the
mountains, the north-west storm moaned round the corners, and whirled
the ashes and scraps of dung about so that they found their way into my
tent, where the dogs lay rolled in a corner to keep themselves warm.
Again, on December 4, we left a mule behind. The land was covered with
snow, and the ride was fearfully cold, icicles hung from my moustache,
and my right foot lost all feeling. Hundreds of antelopes and kiangs
were grazing to the left of our road; the dogs dashed at them, but soon
came back again, for the animals would not move an inch. No men
appeared, and we thought that the real opposition would be encountered
at the Bogtsang-tsangpo, that is, where I had last time been forced to
turn westwards.
The next day's march took us over rather tiring hills where small points
of weathered porphyry cropped up here and there out of the ground.
Spoors of wild animals ran in all directions, and cattle and sheep
tracks were equally numerous.
But not even at the Bogtsang-tsangpo did anything suspicious appear. We
calmed down again and rested here on the 6th. Our store of rice and
flour was consumed; there was only a little for me, so that I had my
freshly-baked bread every morning and evening. The others had to live
exclusively on mutton, so that every day one sheep at least was needed.
Just as Tundup Sonam and two other men returned from a foray, bringing
with them six fat sheep, we saw six men on foot coming to our camp. Our
grand vizier, Muhamed Isa, received them before they were brought before
me. The principal among them thus introduced himself:
"I am the _Gova_ (District Chief) of this country, and have received
tidings from the north that you are on the way southwards. You passed
through here five years ago with twenty-five camels. I am now come to
inquire your name, how many servants and pack-animals you have, and
whither you intend to go."
"Why do you put these questions?"
"Because I must forward information to the Governor of Naktsang; if I do
not, he will cut my head off."
He was given the particulars he wanted, and then he asked:
"Will the Bombo Chimbo be so kind as to wait here until the answer comes
back?"
"Where is the Governor of Naktsang?"
"In Shansa-dzong on the Kyaring-tso."
"How long will it take a messenger to reach him?"
"Ten days."
"Then the answer will be here in twenty days. No, thank you, we have no
time to wait so long."
"But you must wait three days, until I have sent for a man who can
write."
"No, we are off to-morrow."
So far all had passed off well. Instead of encountering an armed force,
we found the country open for twenty days longer. But after that things
would be different; the Governor of Naktsang would not let me take
another step farther southwards; I knew him in the year 1901 and found
him inflexible. The least we could expect was that he would detain us
till the answer of the Government was received. Like Dutreuil de Rhins
and Grenard, I should have to wait one, perhaps even two, months.
Our chief, however, pursued a little private policy of his own, and said
that the relations of the Devashung and India were now friendly, and
therefore he would treat us as friends. He dared not sell us baggage
animals or provide us with guides without the consent of the Governor,
but he would gladly impart to us all the information we desired. He
mentioned some names according with those given by Nain Sing, and
showing how conscientiously the celebrated Pundit had performed his
task. The conical height to the north of our camp he named Tugu-lhamo;
the Gobrang is a ridge to the north-east of it, and a side valley is
called Ragok. Nain Sing gives the names Dubu Lhamo, Gobrang, and Ragu.
He reckons the distance to the Dagtse-tso, the salt lake by which I
encamped in 1901 at the mouth of the Bogtsang-tsangpo, at nine days'
journey. It is easily explained how Nain Sing fell into an error here,
and also represented the river as flowing into the Chargut-tso, for he
was not there himself and trusted too much to the frequently unreliable
information of the chiefs.
In the course of the evening the chief became still more friendly, and
proposed to travel with us for three days under the pretence of keeping
an eye on us. He would, however, keep some distance from us, and, like a
night-owl, join us only when it had become quite dark. In the night he
pitched his chieftain's tent, green above and white below, beside ours.
We passed quickly eastwards along the Bogtsang-tsangpo in only five and
a half short marches, partly close beside the river, partly along
parallel valleys which skirt its southern bank. On December 7 we lost
sight of it, but in the district Pati-bo it again emerged from a narrow
transverse valley. Eastwards the fall is extremely slight, and the river
winds in most capricious curves, so that the path touches the bank only
at the southern bends. A quantity of hearthstones and fenced-in
sheepfolds show that many nomads spend the summer on the
Bogtsang-tsangpo. The volume of water is very insignificant, for the
river is principally fed by sources which are called into existence only
by the autumn rains, and fail in winter. Thick ice lies over it all, and
is deeply hollowed by the constant fall of the river. The ranges on both
sides run in an east and west direction, and frequently three such
crests are seen at the same time towards the south. One is often
astonished at the whim of the stream in turning sharply to cut through a
rocky crest, whereas it would seem much easier to flow on along the open
longitudinal valley. But, like most mountainous countries, Tibet
presents many such puzzling problems, difficult of solution. At a place
where comparatively warm rivulets flow in on our side there is a short,
wide reach of the river where Robert caught fish, a very welcome
variation in our monotonous diet.
In the night we had 54 degrees of frost, and on December 12 the
thermometer sank to -24.7°. The caravan now consisted of 11 horses and 4
mules, besides the 18 yaks. The yaks are not accustomed to long day's
marches, so we proceeded very slowly eastwards. We could not hurry our
marches, much as we should have liked to do so. There were several men
sickly, and the medicine chest was in great demand. Muhamed Isa
especially suffered from headache, and many a time as we passed by he
was lying on his back on the ground. He was dosed with antipyrine and
quinine, and I advised him to walk as little as possible.
The chief became more and more at home with us, and no longer observed
his former caution. He sometimes called on nomads on the way, but his
tent was always set up among ours. Every day he brought to me one or two
nomads, who gave me information about the country and sold us milk and
sheep. Several were from Ombo, a village and district on the north shore
of the Dangra-yum-tso, where a couple of stone huts stand and barley is
cultivated. The pasturage round the lake is said to be so poor that the
inhabitants of its shores have to migrate northwards with their flocks
in winter. Unfortunately they had not heard of a post messenger from
Shigatse, but they were equally ignorant of any order directed against
us.
On December 12 we left the Bogtsang-tsangpo and directed our steps
towards the south-east. At night a violent storm arose, but the minimum
temperature was only 13.5°; the night before there were 56.7 degrees of
frost.
Another mule died in the night, and the surviving animals had to be
carefully guarded from the wolves, which were unusually daring. We
started on December 13 to the pass La-ghyanyak (16,932 feet high), where
a pyramidal cairn marks the divide between the Bogtsang-tsangpo and the
Dangra-yum-tso. The former can be seen meandering along its valley to
its termination in the lake Dagtse-tso; the latter is not yet visible,
but we can guess where its basin lies among the huge mountain massives.
Yonder lay the holy lake Dangra-yum-tso, which had long been our aim,
and whither I had requested Colonel Dunlop Smith to send my letters. To
the south-west arose two dominating snowy peaks above a sea of
mountainous undulations, and in the same direction lay a small round
lake, the Tang-yung-tsaka, already seen by Nain Sing, and named by him
Tang-yung-tso (Illustration 90). The country seemed desolate and
uninhabited, and no riders spurred through the valleys to block our way.
Farther down we passed two tents, where the inmates told us we were on
the wrong way if we wished to go to the Dangra-yum-tso, for it could be
reached in a direction due south in four short marches. All Naktsang
knew, they said, that a _Peling_ was coming, a report that, however, had
probably spread from the north, not from the south. If the mail-runner
had actually reached the lake, he would hear that we were not far off,
and would look out for us.
Now the thermometer sank to -24° again, and we let the animals rest a
day. Meanwhile I, with Robert and Shukkur Ali, made an excursion on foot
through a singularly wild romantic valley, which was little over a yard
broad in some places, and was cut out between vertical walls. Often the
bottom is filled with fallen blocks, which obstruct the way, but
elsewhere it is occupied by a brook, now frozen up. The rapids and
waterfalls of this brook are also congealed into glassy ice, and shine
with a bluish-green tinge in the depth of the valley, where the summer
flood has excavated curious caves. Here the wind is confined as in a
pair of bellows, and roars and whistles round the cliffs. In an
expansion of the valley we kindle a fire and take a rest. Along the
precipice above us six proud eagles soar with motionless wings.
According to previous arrangement Rabsang came to meet us with some of
our yaks, so that we could ride back. He brought us disturbing news. At
the tents we had seen farther up the valley on the day before, twelve
armed men had collected to waylay us. An express messenger had, it
seems, brought word from Shigatse that we must be driven back to the
north. I did not question him further, and we rode home in silence. It
was a bitter experience now, when we had looked down from La-ghanyak on
the great unknown country crossed only by Nain Sing's route of the year
1874, which we had intended to intersect at one point only, to see all
the grand discoveries, of which I had dreamt so long, blown away like
mist. And it was especially irritating to think that others might come
here later and rob me of these conquests. Reminiscences of the past
autumn and early winter came into my head; we had successfully executed
an immense traverse over the Chang-tang, and at the critical moment the
nomads had come to our assistance. It had been a splendid bold journey
hitherto, but I had always considered it only as a prologue to the grand
plans which kept me awake at night and had occupied my thoughts during
the long weary ride. And now they would receive their death-blow. Now my
dreams of victory would be resolved into blue haze, like the smoke of
the camp-fire which marked the southernmost point of our advance into
the forbidden land.