A Phantom Lion of Gigantic Proportions
We camped that night at a dreary spot called Gankan (12,295 feet), where we expected to find some traders, this being one of their temporary stations, but did not. So we fared rather badly. We could find no fuel, and the supply which they generally bring up with them was quite exhausted. All the trading with Tibet was now over from this side, and everybody had retired southward. Two stray sheep—one dead, the other still alive but with broken legs—were lying near the wall which marked the favourite spot for a camping-ground. We passed a very chilly night, and the next day when we woke snow was falling heavily. My [[199]]men seemed to be sufferingly greatly, and I decided to ask for two volunteers to accompany me and carry my instruments to the glaciers northwards, the remainder of the expedition proceeding one march southward, to a place where fuel could be obtained, and awaiting our return there.
We three started off in a fierce wind at six o’clock in the morning, and passed three small glaciers to the east—the Suiti, Pungrung, and Mangti. To the west were five other smaller glaciers. We had gradually risen to 15,000 feet, and farther on, at the foot of the Nui Glacier, at the spot known as the Nui Encamping-ground, the altitude was 16,950 feet.
It was at this place that, in the mist and snow, we saw the immense image of what seemed a conventional crouching lion sculptured in the rock. On approaching it, however, the illusion was explained. The main body—as I have already explained—was merely a gigantic boulder, while the extended paws and tail were mani walls with end chokdens built away from the rock. From a certain point of view it looked exactly like a lion.
This being the last camp before traders attempt the high pass, many chokdens of all sizes are to be seen all over the valley and on the hill-side. One [[200]]of the peculiarities of these chokdens is that they are as much as possible built with white or light-coloured stones.
The wind had got much worse as we got higher, and the effort of walking was considerable. We had gone some eleven miles, and my two men were so exhausted they were unable to continue. They dragged along uncomplainingly, but I could see that they were on the verge of breaking down. At the foot of the Nui we had some food, and having laden myself with all the necessary instruments and cameras—quite a considerable weight—left my two men to await my return, while I went alone to survey the Nui Glacier and climb the high pass.
Once alone, I proceeded at a greater speed, but the ground was much broken by huge boulders, and to cover a short distance involved a lot of labour. About one mile and a half from where I had left my men I came in for an experience which I did not quite expect at that moment, although, fortunately, I was prepared for any emergency.
The Tibetans had had time to prepare a great many snares for me, and to send soldiers to all the passes, and what they could not do by facing me [[201]]direct they attempted as usual to accomplish by treachery. Much to my astonishment in this desolate region, I came upon a Tibetan comfortably seated upon the ground, upon which he had spread several coats. I asked him if he were alone, and he said yes.
“What are you doing here?”
“I am going back to my country. My friends went ahead yesterday.”