"What have you done with it?" I inquired, angrily, as it immediately flashed across my mind that my carriers had been playing foul. I had ordered each man to take one pound of salt.
"Yes, sahib; but we forgot to take it," said the men, in a chorus.
BEHIND OUR BULWARKS
After the hardships and fatigue we had undergone, and the anxiety and difficulty of carrying on my work of surveying, photography, sketching, and writing, under conditions of unusual discomfort and risk, it was indeed a hard blow to me to see my plans spoiled. We were still three or four days' journey from Mansarowar, where I expected to obtain fresh supplies. Again I had the choice of giving up and returning into India or of being captured by the Tibetan soldiers, whom I had so far successfully avoided. Though not usually affected by physical pain, I sometimes suffer under mental stress. I felt ill and depressed. To add bodily discomfort to my moral sufferings, I slipped, while jumping in the semi-darkness from stone to stone across the Gakkon River, and fell flat into about four feet of ice-cold water. The wind was high at the time. The thermometer, after dark, went down to 26°. While I was sitting in my wet clothes and talking our situation over, I became so cold and exhausted that I felt I was about to collapse altogether. High fever set in, and I became almost delirious. With my teeth chattering and my temperature at its highest, all my troubles seemed greater than they were. Failure seemed inevitable, my position hopeless. A plan suddenly flashed across my mind. Four of my men should go disguised, two as traders and two as beggars, into the Takla fort (locally called Takla khar or Taklakot), and buy food from my enemies. We, in camp, would remain hidden until they returned. I spoke to my followers, and, after some natural reluctance, four Shokas undertook to perform the daring duty. Discovery would mean to them the loss of their heads, in all probability preceded by cruel tortures. Although these men eventually betrayed me, I cannot help giving them credit for the pluck and fidelity they showed on that particular occasion.
During the night my men were particularly good to me. We did not sleep for fear of being surprised by the Tibetan soldiers. We passed hour after hour listening to Shoka stories of brigands and barbarous Tibetan tortures. Little I knew then what was in store for me. Early in the morning, when it grew light, we gathered a quantity of nettles, which were plentiful near this camp, and having boiled them thoroughly, we made of them a hearty if not quite an appetizing meal. They did not seem unpalatable at the time, and had we possessed salt to add taste and digestibility to our prickly diet, we might have felt quite happy. We supplied the deficiency by mixing with them a double quantity of pepper. At any rate, it was a relief to know that, while nettles lasted near our camp, we should at least not die of starvation.