“As we are still some five or six days’ journey from the Phari Challenge Gate,” he suggested eagerly, yet with some hesitation, “would it not be better for us to take the other road? They are so very strict with their enquiries at the gate that it will be hard for you to get a proper passport, without a witness who can prove that you are only going on a short trip to India and that you will soon be back. Such a witness must be taken from the village itself, and it requires quite a lot of money to get one. You will also have to do some bribing to get a passport, and I very much doubt whether you have money enough for the purpose. There is another way where I can get you through for about half the money required at Phari, and if you will entrust the matter to me I will take you to it. We must go by the secret path to Khamburong, from which point it will be easy to get into India; but it is a difficult road, and not altogether free from wild animals. If you are afraid of it, there is another route, through Bhūtān, though, to be sure, it is infested with highwaymen. Still, I dare say you will get through unmolested, if you conceal your luggage and wear old clothes. It is for you to choose.”
“Do you mean to tell me,” I replied, “that I had better take some other route than that of Phari on the ground of expense?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tenba; “it is nonsense to throw away money like that.”
“I don’t know how much money it will require,” I replied deliberately, “but it is folly to risk one’s life unnecessarily. If we go by the secret path or through Bhūṭān the chances are nine to one that we lose our lives. It is better to lose money than one’s life. So don’t dream of going by a dangerous road, for there is no need for it. I am not without money; how much do you want? I promised to give you seven yen fifty sen monthly, and I intend to give you a handsome present as well for the work you undertake to do for me, but I shall not give you anything unless you stick to your bargain.”
The whole of this suggestion originated, I am sure, from his brother’s parting whisper, and I was glad to be able to dispel his suspicions, at least in some degree. Had I acted upon his suggestions, and given him the money he asked for to take me round by the secret path, his suspicions as to the shadiness of my character would have been confirmed, and he would only have waited for me to fall asleep to steal my luggage. It is impossible to trust oneself entirely to Tibetans, for honesty is observed only among people who are well-known to one another, and only so long as actions are done before the public gaze. Social restraints are no sooner removed than the Tibetan is ready for any crime or enormity. One has to keep one’s eyes constantly open in travelling with such people.
After a pleasant walk of about five miles along the mountain ridge, we arrived at the village of Salu, where we stopped. We left at one o’clock the next morning (June 8th), much to the disgust of Tenba, who was again horribly afraid of the journey through the dark, and proceeded southward towards the mountains. More accurately, we were going to the south-west, and after proceeding for some seven and a half miles, reached a high plain. Eleven miles further, we came to a small lake with a river flowing to it. We kept along the east bank of the river for another three and a half miles, which brought us to Lake Lham tso, a sheet of water connected with the lower lake by the river. We could reach Phari by going round the lake on either side; but we chose to go along the left or eastern side.
From this point the snowy peaks of the Himālayas look like a row of beautiful maidens sitting in a line on a bench, and wearing snow-white bonnets. They are not very high, but there are great numbers of peaks, the lower slopes of which are covered in summer with grass, which would I believe make excellent pasture, especially along the borders of the lake where grass is profuse. We skirted the shores of the lake for about twenty miles and at last reached the village of Lham-maye, on a beautiful summer evening with the crescent moon shining faintly above us. It reminded me of home.
NIGHT SCENE ON THE CHOMO-LHARI AND LHAM TSO.