Loading up at Dochen.
From Dochen to Khe was a short march of 11 miles over the Dug Pass, 16,400 feet. I did not follow the road taken by the transport animals, but took a local guide and rode over the hill-tops in search of ovis ammon. I did not see any, however, though we sighted two or three goa, but they were very wild and would not allow me to approach within 500 yards of them. There were numbers of blue hares, however, and some ram chakor, the Himalayan snow cock. But beyond this the hillsides were very bare of game. There were pin-cushions of a beautiful little blue sedum growing at a height of over 17,000 feet, also there was a big red stonecrop. Khe is now only a small and dirty village with practically no water except a half-dried muddy pond, but at one time it must have been a place of some importance, as ruins and buildings of considerable size extend over an area of more than a mile. The Kala-tso evidently at one time came right up to this ruined town of Khetam, and the fact that it is deserted now is probably due to the shrinkage of the lake. This was only one of the many signs of desiccation that we saw in our travels in Tibet. There were some curious ruins which looked like old crenellated walls, but these walls were only places on which barley dough used to be exposed to feed the crows as a sign of prosperity. It was a curious custom and could only have prevailed in a very fertile valley, which this place is no longer. The age of the city I could not find out, but the few survivors told me that the holy shrine at Tashilumpo, which now is at Shigatse, ought to have been built here. According to a local legend, there was a certain stone in Khetam shaped like a ewe's-womb, and one day a donkey driver finding that his loads were unequal in weight, picked up this stone and put it on the light load to balance the other, quite unaware of the importance of the stone. This stone was then carried from Gyantse to Shigatse, where a high and important Lama saw it, and recognising that this was a very holy stone, had it kept there. The powerful monastery of Tashilumpo was built over this stone. We passed two small nunneries called Doto and Shidag in snug little valleys to the North of the plain, and on asking why there should be so many nunneries in these parts when in the greater part of Tibet men predominated, I was told that this was due to the fact that it was close to the Nepalese frontier where there had always been much fighting, so that most of the men had been killed and only women had survived. After a short and easy march we came to a small pocket in the hills called Kheru. Here were encamped some people belonging to a nomad tribe who always lived in tents. They were very friendly, put tents at our disposal, and did their best to make us comfortable. They told us that they came here every year in the twelfth month, about January, and left again in the fifth month of the Tibetan year (June) for a place near Tuna, where they disposed of their wool, butter and cheese at the Phari market. There were altogether about twenty families here owning some 200 yaks and 3,000 sheep. Dr. Kellas was slightly better, but Raeburn was not feeling at all well, and Wheeler was suffering from indigestion, so that we were rather a sick party. Kheru lies at a height of 15,700 feet, but it had been very hot all day in the brilliant sunshine, and on the way we had passed lizards and a number of common peacock butterflies. Next morning our march was to Tatsang (Falcon's Nest), a distance of 15 or 16 miles, and over two passes 16,450 and 17,100 feet. The going was easy all the way, as the gradients both up and down the passes were very gentle. Between the two passes was a broad valley, filled with huge flocks of sheep and herds of yaks, and after crossing the second pass, we descended into a great barren and stony plain, more than 10 miles across which was Tatsang and over which the wind blew very keenly. To the South of us appeared the snowy crests of Pawhunri, Kanchenjhow and Chomiomo and the Lhonak peaks. Again I did not keep with the transport, but followed the crests of the hills, where I had lovely views; on the way I saw plenty of gazelle, and was lucky enough to shoot one of them, as they are very good eating. Our camp at Tatsang was pitched just below the nunnery there, which is on the top of a rock and where there are about thirty nuns. Our camp was on a pleasant grassy spot where some excellent springs bubble up out of the ground. These within a few yards formed quite a big stream full of small snow trout. They do not really belong to the trout family, although they have somewhat similar spots, and are very good to eat. Bullock, with his butterfly net, and the coolies with their hands, managed to catch quite a number of fish, and we had them for dinner that night. The ground round our tents was full of holes out of which the marmot rats kept appearing. They were very tame, and did not seem to be in the least afraid of us. Dr. Kellas had had a very trying day. He had been rather better, and had started riding a yak, but he found this too exhausting and coolies had to be sent back from Tatsang to bring him on in a litter, so that he did not arrive at Tatsang till late in the evening. Tatsang is 16,000 feet, so the night was cold, the thermometer inside the tent registering 7° of frost, though it was June 4; outside there must have been quite 15° as the running streams were all frozen over, but once the sun had risen everything warmed up and we had a beautiful warm day. Dr. Kellas started off in his litter at 7 a.m. in quite good spirits. I did not start till an hour later, as I had wanted to see everything off, and then went up to visit the nunnery, over which the lady abbess showed me. There were thirty nuns living there, all with shorn heads and wearing a curious wool head-dress. The place where they worshipped was full of prayer wheels, both large and small. They sat down behind these, and each nun turned one or two of them if they could manage it. The room was very dark, with a low ceiling, and at the end were several statues of Buddha covered over with gauze veils. In another room there was a large prayer wheel which they said contained half a million prayers.
After leaving the nunnery we jogged along a dry and barren valley which gradually rose in about 12 miles to a pass 17,200 feet. On the way we passed Dr. Kellas in his litter, who then seemed to me to be still quite cheerful. I then rode on and at the top of the pass saw three ovis ammon, and after a chase of about a mile I shot one, which afforded plenty of food for the coolies for some days. It was a full grown ram about five years old and we had great trouble in getting the carcass on to a mule, as it was enormous and very heavy. After this I rode on down the valley for another 10 miles to Khamba Dzong. There were actually a few bushes in this valley, which was carpeted with the pretty pink trumpet-shaped flower mentioned above, also with light and dark blue iris. Suddenly the valley narrowed into a fine limestone gorge, and all at once the fort of Khamba Dzong appeared towering above us on the cliffs. It was really a very impressive sight and some of the architecture of the round towers was very fine. I found that Morshead had been waiting here for about nine days, but had employed his time in fixing the old triangulation points. Soon after I arrived the Jongpen came down to pay us a visit. He was quite a young fellow, only about twenty-four, but very pleasant and polite.
While we were talking, a man came running up to us very excitedly to say that Dr. Kellas had suddenly died on the way. We could hardly believe this, as he was apparently gradually getting better; but Wollaston at once rode off to see if it was true, and unfortunately found that there was no doubt about it. It was a case of sudden failure of the heart, due to his weak condition, while being carried over the high pass. His death meant a very great loss to the Expedition in every way, as he alone was qualified to carry out the experiments in oxygen and blood pressure which would have been so valuable to the Expedition, and on which subject he was so great an expert. His very keenness had been the cause of his illness, for he had tried his constitution too severely in the early months of that year by expeditions into the heart of the Himalayas to see if he could get fresh photographs from other angles of Mount Everest. The following day we buried him on the slopes of the hill to the South of Khamba Dzong, in a site unsurpassed for beauty that looks across the broad plains of Tibet to the mighty chain of the Himalayas out of which rise up the three great peaks of Pawhunri, Kanchenjhow and Chomiomo, which he alone had climbed. From the same spot, far away to the West—more than a hundred miles away—could be seen the snowy crest of Mount Everest towering far above all the other mountains. He lies, therefore, within sight of his greatest feats in climbing and within view of the mountain that he had longed for so many years to approach—a fitting resting-place for a great mountaineer.
Khamba Dzong.