The Mansarowar Lake is about forty-six miles round. Pilgrims who wish to attain a great state of sanctity make a kora, or circuit, on foot along the water-line. The journey occupies from four to seven days, according to circumstances. One trip round will absolve the pilgrim from ordinary sins; twice the circuit clears the conscience of any murder; and three times will make honest and good a person who has killed his or her father, mother, brother, or sister. There are fanatics who make the tour on their knees; others accomplish the distance lying flat upon the ground after each step.
According to legend, Mansarowar was created by Brahma. He who shall bathe in its waters will share the paradise of Mahadeva! No matter what crimes he may have previously committed, a dip in the holy lake is sufficient to purge the soul as well as the body of any criminal!
When they had finished purifying themselves by washing, I ordered Chanden Sing to take his rifle and follow me into the Gomba. Having committed no crime, I thought I had better do without the holy bath, although the temptation was great to go and have a swim. The Lamas were so polite that I feared treachery on their part. To please my men and perhaps bring myself some luck, I hurled a couple of coins into the lake.
The large square building, with its walls painted red and its flattish dome of gilt copper rose by the waterside, and was both picturesque and handsome in its severe simplicity.
There came sounds from inside of deep, hoarse voices muttering prayers, of tinkling of bells and clanging of cymbals. From time to time a drum was beaten, giving a hollow sound, and an occasional and sudden touch upon a gong caused the air to vibrate until the notes faded away as they were carried over the holy lake.
After Chanden Sing and I had entered the Lamasery, the large door, which had been pushed wide open, was immediately closed. We were in a spacious court-yard, three sides of which had two tiers of galleries supported by columns.
This was the Lhaprang, or Lama's house. Directly in front of me was the Lha Kang, or temple, the floor of which was raised some five feet above the level of the ground. A large door led into it. At this entrance were, one on either side, recesses in which, by the side of a big drum, squatted two Lamas with books of prayers before them, a praying-wheel and a rosary in their hands, the beads of which they shifted after every prayer. At our appearance the monks ceased their prayers and beat the drums in an excited manner. There seemed to be some disturbance in the Gomba. Lamas old and young rushed to and fro out of their rooms, while a number of Chibbis, or novices (boys between the ages of twelve and twenty), lined the railings of the upper veranda with expressions of evident suspense and curiosity upon their faces. No doubt the Lamas had prepared a trap for us. I warned Chanden Sing to be on the alert, and set him on guard at the entrance of the temple. I deposited a few silver coins on the drum of the Lama to my right, took off my shoes in sign of respect, and—much to the amazement of the monks—quietly entered the house of worship. Partly astonished at the sight of the silver, and more so at my want of caution, the Lamas, of whom there were a good number in the court-yard, remained motionless and dumb. The High Lama, or Father Superior of the monastery, at last came forward stooping low. He placed one thumb above the other and put his tongue out to show his approval of my visit to the many images representing deities or sanctified Buddhist heroes which were grouped along the walls of the temple. The largest of these figures were about five feet high, the others about three feet. Some were carved out of wood, their drapery and ornaments being fairly artistic in arrangement and execution, while others were fashioned in gilt metal. There were images in a sitting posture and some standing erect. They rested either on ornamented or plain pedestals painted blue, red, white, and yellow. Many wore the ancient Chinese double-winged cap, and were placed in recesses in the wall decorated with stuffs, wood-carvings, and rough paintings of images.
At the foot of these images was a long shelf, on which, in bright brass vessels of all sizes, were oblations of tsamba, dried fruit, chura, wheat, and rice, offered, through the Lamas, by devotees to the different saints. Some of the ears of barley were ornamented with imitation leaves modelled in butter, and colored red, blue, and yellow.
The ceiling of the temple was draped in red woollen cloth similar to that of the clothes worn by the Lamas. From it hung hundreds of strips of silk, wool, and cotton of all colors. The roof was supported by columns of wood forming a quadrangle in the centre of the temple. These were joined by a balustrade, compelling the worshippers to make a circuit from left to right, in order to pass before the several images.
In a shrine in the central part of the wall facing the entrance was Urghin, or Kunjuk-chick (God alone). In front of it on a kind of altar covered with a carpet were to be seen donations far more abundant than those offered to other images.