The reason why it was specially dangerous to me was the number of people who knew me. Of course there was no man who would act as my enemy, but as most of the Tibetans are shrewd money-savers, it was not certain that those who knew me would not tell my nationality to the Tibetan officials and thereby make a little money. There had been two English people there; one of whom was Miss Taylor, a missionary, who, as I said before, tried to get into Tibet from China. Proceeding as far as Nakchukha from which the distance to Lhasa is ten days’ journey by horse, and fifteen or twenty days’ journey by walking, she was not allowed to go any further. Every one can go to Nakchukha, which forms the boundary between China and Tibet, but it is hard to step into the Dalai Lama’s dominion. Miss Taylor returned with the object of converting the Tibetan people, and now lives at the town of Nyatong, which by some is called Yatung.
As it is the boundary between British India and Tibet, there are many Tibetans and British officials there. Among those I knew very well were the Englishmen and their Secretaries hired by the Chinese Government to examine both import and export goods; besides there are three or four Tibetans from Darjeeling. If I had been detected by these men, there was no way of escape for me; but committing myself to the will of Buḍḍha, I proceeded rapidly onwards with firm steps. There were about ten houses; the large and elegant ones were occupied by officials, missionaries, or Chinese.
Opposite the house of the missionary stands the mansion of a man known by the official name Chyi Kyab (Superior), his personal name being Sardar Dargye. Sardar means coolie-leader, Dargye his personal name. In Darjeeling there are ḍanḍiwala or mountain palanquin carriers, so-called from the rudest and simplest form of palanquin used in mountain travel, which consists essentially of a basket carried by means of a pole. This man was originally the chief of these coolies, and the custom of this rascal was to deceive and threaten men and extort money by violence. As I heard that all in Darjeeling had suffered from his cruel treatment and reproached him vigorously, he must be a very bad man. Now I had to meet this man.
This upstart, who had been a coolie chief, being in Tibet appointed to high rank by the Dalai Lama, is invested with such great power and influence that he wears a hat adorned with coral beads. Like all upstarts, his speech is more arrogant than that of a Minister President in Lhasa, and it was thought almost certain that if I should call at his mansion to see him, I should be driven out from his gate. Just in front of his house stood an elegant and well arranged house containing various chambers of convenient sizes, inhabited by Europeans. In it many servants were busily engaged in working here and there. Notwithstanding there were some among them who knew me, I passed by without seeing them. We went to Dargye’s mansion, but we were not allowed to go in. However one man came out, and looked at me awhile.
“Who is he?” asked the man from my servant in a whisper.
No sooner did the servant utter the words: “He is the physician of Sera,” than “Oh!” said the man, “is he the famous physician of Sera? Some say he is coming to this place.”
“There is an urgent call for my master,” said the servant, “we can’t lose even a day’s time. At Phari Castle we received our passport on the day of our arrival; give us the note as quickly as possible.”
As I was thinking that the servant for the most part had done well, the man said “Step this way,” and happily we were received.
The supervisor has two wives: one he married when he was coolie-chief, and the other after appointment as a supervisor.
Telling him the various circumstances of my journey, I requested him to give me a note allowing me to pass out of the guard-house.