CHAPTER XV
The Tibetan in his normal life is occasionally an amusing being, full of coarse humour, and with a bounce which carries him through his existence. When alone, he is quiet in his manner, and will spend his leisure hours spinning wool or in some other such feminine occupation, while his women-folk do all the hard work about the tent. As will be seen by the illustrations in this book, both Tibetan men and women look clumsy and heavy. Anatomically, they are well-built, small but wiry, and rather thickly set, but very seldom with any great abundance of flesh and fat, except the Lamas, who lead a lascivious and lazy life.
A Typical Tibetan
Tibetan clothing is mostly responsible for the funny appearance they present, men wearing sometimes three or four coats, skin or woollen, one on the top of the other. The sash or belt, which is intended to be at the waist, is usually considerably [[167]]lower down owing to the weight of the variety of articles the wearer constantly carries stored away round the waist in his outer coat,—wooden bowls, balls of butter, bags of tsamba, a bundle of wool for spinning with the distaff, the prayer-wheel, and a quantity of rags,—which bulge out at the waist all round his body and drag down his coat. This often gives them the appearance of being quite short-legged, though, of course, they are not really.
Men and women wear picturesque, most comfortable and practical long boots, the legging being usually red or white, the thick soles of rope well protecting the foot all round. These boots are largely manufactured in Lhassa and Shigatz, but people also manufacture them themselves. Officials wear leather boots of the Chinese type, with thick wooden or leather soles with a few huge iron nails underneath and a curled-up toe.
Among the coloured illustrations will be found paintings of Tibetan women—from babyhood, in an ample and striking robe of white and blue checks; at the age of twelve, with shaggy hair hanging down the back and shoulders and a sufficient collection of ornaments round the neck; an older dame, of middle class and age, in her everyday costume, with [[168]]a sash enveloping nearly one-third of her body; then a lady of rank and beauty, fully decorated with amber necklace, gold and malachite brooch, elaborate earrings, and a much-adorned aureole upon the head. She sits modestly on bags of borax, and displays feet of some considerable size. Well, that is the fault of the ample and padded boots which she wears, and not a fault of the foot inside—not small, mind you, but generally well-formed—nor of the painter who depicted the scene.
Next we have a religious lady praying before a tent shrine, turning her back to us and displaying in its full glory her Tchukti—that is to say, three broad bands of three sections each alternately blue and red. These bands of heavy cloth reach from the shoulder to the feet, and they are ornamented with coral or malachite beads, silver coins and bells, and at the lower end a row of little brass or silver bells is generally attached. Nearly all the money earned by the woman (and frequently that of the husband) is sewn on to the Tchukti, so that the family fortune—when this fortune exists—hangs down women’s backs to a number of neat little tresses of the woman’s hair to which it is attached. When the Tchukti is worn the hair is parted in the middle and plastered down with melted butter. [[169]]
Last, but not least, you will find the portrait of a Tibetan old lady, who somewhat resented being sketched and had not her sweetest smile upon her face. Rather bony and toothless, with a wrinkled skin which would put to shame a crocodile, one leg stretched out because she had a rheumatic pain and could not bend it, she used quite bad language when I quickly portrayed her. She predicted and wished misfortunes of all kinds which should descend upon me.
Perhaps you will notice, in most of the illustrations representing Tibetans, that the people depicted in them have their eyes half-closed. This is one of the most characteristic points about a Tibetan face, especially when out of doors and conversing. First of all, as you know, the Mongolian eye is elongated between heavy lids, and does not afford an extensive view of the iris at any time; then, owing to the intensely brilliant light, the severe and constant winds, and plentiful snow, the natives get into the habit of accentuating the squeezing of the eye-aperture for protection. This causes crow’s-feet to appear on men and women at an early age, and a much corrugated forehead and brow.
I had occasion on this journey to pay a visit to [[170]]a quaint tribe of Tibetans calling themselves the Kam-par, or people from Kam (Tibet). They possessed extraordinary features—from intermarriage with some tribe of Nepal, I should think—intensely cruel faces in many instances; others quite refined, especially those of the better class. The young man whose portrait I give, very girlish-looking, with an elaborate hat ornamented with gold embroidery, was the son of the chief, and quite a nice-looking boy, with suave manners and a humble voice. He had long hair in waves upon his shoulders, and a short pigtail behind. But some of the older men, such as the one I portrayed, had brutal faces, and their manner was somewhat coarse, sulky, and blunt. They possessed highly developed cheek-bones, slits of eyes, and prominent drooping lips. The nose, however, was more developed than on other Tibetans.
Woman and Child praying before a Shrine inside a Tent
These people, like most other Tibetans, practise a form of cannibalism which is not at all uncommon in Tibet, especially in their funeral ceremonies. The Lamas, as is well known, often drink human blood out of bowls made of human skulls.
This tribe, a nomad one, was, among other employments, given to a certain amount of brigandage; [[171]]and, in fact, among them I found a well-known brigand—a long-lost friend of mine—whose portrait I also give in these pages. He possessed quite a striking-looking head, with a good deal of determination upon his features, a fierce moustache, and masses of curly hair trimmed straight at the height of the shoulders. He always shouted at the top of his voice whenever he spoke; always heartily laughed at everything you said; and, to show his approval, struck you upon your shoulder with his ponderous hand after each sentence. He was one of the most powerfully built men I have ever met, his strength being quite extraordinary; and, for a brigand, quite an agreeable companion out of business hours.
Polyandry, when the wife is shared among brothers, as is the case all over Tibet, is practised by this tribe also; and when I met them they were employed in conveying salt and borax, from Gyanema over the Darma Pass into India. These Kam-par occasionally travel as far down as Tanakpore, the borax and salt being carried entirely on sheep-back.
When one got over the peculiar expression of their faces, the Kam-par were amiable enough.
Their women were highly decorated with [[172]]numerous brass ornaments with pendants, and silver bracelets inlaid with malachite. Teeth of musk-deer were freely used as ornaments, as well as being used for such useful purposes as picking one’s teeth, cleaning the nails, and so on.
The chief wore his hair parted in the centre, and plaited into small tresses which joined into a single pigtail behind. The skin was of a sallow yellowish colour. The upper portion of the eye, as is often the case in people who are constantly exposed to a brilliant light, was much discoloured, and a peculiar whitish tinge veiled the entire iris of the eye. In the way of clothing they showed a marked preference for bright red and yellow textiles, and on their visits into Kumaon they had invested their savings in buying old regimental brass buttons, with which the women were freely ornamented. Bracelets of glass beads, and also necklaces of coral and amber, were displayed with pride.
Tibetan Boy in his Gold-embroidered Hat
These people had beautiful tents, the inside being most comfortable, with Chinese carpets spread on the floor, cushions to rest the head and back upon, and cured skins spread everywhere where they might come in useful. Elaborate altars, some double-tiered, with as many as seven images of Buddha, were to be seen, and upon them [[173]]burning lights galore, incense-sticks alight filling the tent with saintly fumes. Bags of butter and chura and sweet paste hung from every tent-pole. All round the tent, inside and also outside, were high walls of double sacks of borax. Outside, on high posts, with an ingenious contrivance to prevent animals going up, a lot of meat was prepared, with salt, in thin slices, and exposed to the sun to dry.
As is always the case, with this tribe too travelled a number of Lamas, who practically controlled everything. One of these Lamas had as repulsive and murderous a face as it is given to any human being to possess. True enough, his first boast was that he had killed three people (the natives said a good many more). His manner towards the people was most brutal. He was a tall man of marvellous muscular development, and between his most repulsive lips, which never seemed to close, he displayed a set of most powerful long pointed teeth, such as those one would see in a wild animal. His head-gear consisted of a vizor made of long, bristly hair—not unlike the half of a chimney-sweeper’s brush—which he fastened round the forehead and back of the head with a string.
This gentleman was inclined to be overbearing, [[174]]even intrusive; and, to show his courage as well as muscular power (possibly to frighten me), he thumped and knocked about his people in a merciless manner, always taking care to select the helpless and weaker ones. His brutality irritated me considerably. I was standing near his tent, and he came in with a long knife—he had been making himself a stick to beat the people with. He was still foaming with rage. There was a woman, his servant, sitting near the fire, and he asked her whether the tea was ready in the raksang. She replied it was not, upon which he administered a terrific kick in her stomach which would have killed any woman but a Tibetan. I could stand no more. I seized my rifle by the muzzle and applied the butt upon his face in a fashion which somewhat flattened his nose more than it originally was and loosened some teeth. All bullies are cowards in any country, and he made no reply whatever.
No doubt I shall be blamed—as I have been before—for administering my own justice in other people’s countries, but I cannot help feeling that the weak should ever and at any cost be protected against unwarranted attacks of the brutally strong.
A Brigand
Another similar, but more comical, incident—[[175]]one of many—occurred another day, when a shapeless figure, almost bent over in two and walking unsteadily upon his feet, approached my camp. We were in a barren, desolate spot, cold and dreary, and my men had put up chokdens of stones all round the camp.
The queer stranger had a most comical appearance, his waist down to his knees, so full was his coat with stores of all kinds. He bowed profusely, his shaggy hair flying—as much as it could fly, for it was so dirty and entangled—in the breeze.
“Who are you and what do you want?” we asked him.
“I am a poor, poor man, with no food and no friends.”
I well knew this to be a lie, as I had had similar visitors before. He was a mere Tibetan spy—a soldier in the disguise of a beggar, to come and find out all about us.
“What do you want?”
“I am hungry and have pains in my inside for lack of food.”
I ordered my cook to give him plentiful meat and rice and some sweet paste. A little of it he ate; the rest he stored away in his coat, wrapped up in dirty rags. [[176]]
“Is there anything else you want?”
“Yes, I would like some tchah (tea).”
A jug of tea was handed him.
“Anything else you wish from us now?” we inquired of the Tibetan, who, while pretending to sip the tea, was counting the number of my men, was trying to see how many rifles we had, and was taking in everything all round with his ferreting eyes. But although he was a splendid actor, his infirmities, I had detected at once, were all put on for the occasion.
“Can I be allowed to prowl around your camp and see what I can pick up—anything you have thrown away?”
“Yes, certainly; but mind you do not pick more than you expect.”
A Tibetan Spy in the Disguise of a Beggar approaching the Author’s Camp
The man crawled about camp—I ordered my men to pretend not to notice him—while I observed him closely, all the time pretending to be busy writing. By means of a small looking-glass I could watch his movements even when he was behind me. The fellow was examining all my baggage carefully, and especially our rifles which lay about. Having persuaded himself that none of us were looking at him, he raised the flap of my tent and had a good look inside. When he [[177]]had finished his inspection he came to bid me good-bye.
“Have you had all you want, do you think?” I asked him.
“Yes, indeed. He was grateful. He now wanted to go.”
“Before you go, I want to give you a remembrance to teach you that when you accept people’s hospitality you should not practise treachery.”
Snatching out of his hand a long stick he carried, I applied to him a good beating—not that it hurt him much, because he was so padded with articles he had stored in his coat. In fact, in trying to struggle away, his sash got undone and he dropped a number of little bags containing tsamba and butter, provisions which were evidently intended to last him several days on his spying expedition. Also two daggers.
My men, who entered fully into the spirit of the joke, chased him out of camp with a well-directed shower of stones. Needless to say, “the starving Tibetan cripple” outran them all. From a high point of vantage I watched him with my telescope. When some distance off he went among some rocks, picked up his matchlock which he had hidden there—and continued his flight. [[178]]