CHAPTER VII
AN EXCITING NIGHT JOURNEY
The hour fixed for my flight was 9 p.m. Five men had been induced to follow me by the offer of a handsome reward.
At the appointed hour no one had put in an appearance. I went in search of them. One man had purposely injured his feet and was disabled, another professed to be dying, the others positively refused to accompany me. All were shivering with fright and cold.
"Kill us, sahib, if you like," they implored of me, "but we will not follow you."
At 3 a.m. all attempts to get even one man to carry a load had proved futile. I had to abandon the idea of starting.
My prospects became gloomier than ever. Another march back toward the cold and dreary pass by which I had entered Tibet!
"You are depressed, Mr. Landor," remarked the doctor.
I admitted the fact. Every step backward was to me like a stab in the heart. My only wish was to push on at any cost, and it was only on account of my good friend, the doctor, that I had reluctantly refrained from making my way onward by force. My blood was boiling. The cowardice of my men made them so contemptible in my eyes that I could not bear even to look at them.
On this depressing march I walked alone ahead of my party. The rugged way seemed short and easy. I found a suitable spot for our camp. Before me and on every side stood high, snowy mountains. In front towered that same Lumpiya Pass over which I had crossed into Tibet when my spirits ran high and I had hopes of taking my entire expedition toward the sacred city of Lhassa. I now hated the sight of those mountains.