Its watery brilliant sheen illumines me;
All pangs of pain and sorrow washed away.
With these my mind besoothed now wanders far
E’en to Akashi in Japan, my home,
A seashore known for moonlight splendors fair.
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
Bartering in Tibet.
The origin of the four rivers is given in the story just as I have related it; but in reality there is not one of them that actually flows directly out of the Lake. They have their sources in the mountains which surround it, and the stories about the so-called ‘Horse’s’ and ‘Lion’s’ mouths are only legends, incapable of verification. The head-waters of the Langchen Khanbab flow in a westerly direction; those of the Mabcha Khanbab to the south; the sources of the Senge Khanbab may be ascertained with tolerable accuracy; but those of the Tamchok Khanbab have hitherto defied investigation. In India, the river that flows from the Lake in an easterly direction is known as the Brahmapuṭra, while the one that issues towards the south is the Gaṅgā. The Sutlej flows away to the west, and the Siṭā, or Inḍus, towards the north. It is, of course, possible that actual surveys of Lake Mānasarovara have been made by European travellers, but in all the maps that I have seen it is represented as being far smaller than it actually is. It is, in truth, a very large body of fresh water, and has a circumference of some eighty ri, or about two hundred miles. The shape of the lake also, as it appears in the maps, is misleading. It is in reality a fairly regular octagon with various indentations, very much resembling a lotus-flower in shape. All the western maps, as far as I know, give the student an idea of the Lake which is in many respects misleading.
I arrived that night at a Buḍḍhist Temple known as Tse-ko-lo, on the shores of Lake Mānasarovara, and in the evening heard from my host, the superior of the Temple, a story which surprised me greatly. This Lama, I should say, was a man of about fifty-five years of age; he was extremely ignorant, but did not seem to be a man who would lie for the mere pleasure of lying. He was very anxious to hear about the state of Buḍḍhism in China (the reader will remember that I was supposed to be a Chinese, Lama) and the readiness with which I answered his questions warmed his heart and encouraged him to treat me to the following story. He did not know, he said, how it might be with the priests in China, but for himself he could not help feeling at times thoroughly disgusted with his brethren in Tibet. In the immediate vicinity, for instance, an ordinary priest might, he said, indulge himself in all manner of excesses with impunity, and without attracting much attention, and from time to time cases would arise of extreme depravity in a Lama. For instance, there was the case of Alchu Tulku, a Lama supposed to be an incarnation of Alchu, who had at one time been in charge of a well-known temple in the vicinity of Lake Mānasarovara. This Lama became so infatuated with a beautiful woman whom he took to himself as his wife that he was betrayed into transferring the greater part of the temple property as a gift to her father; and not content with that crime he afterwards absconded from the temple, taking with him his wife, and everything that he could carry away that was left of value in the temple. He had heard rumors that this recreant priest was living openly with his wife at Hor-tosho, and he asked me if I had not heard anything about him when I was passing through the place.
The reader will be able to appreciate my astonishment when I tell him that this absconding, dishonest priest was none other than he who had induced the belle of the place to treat me with so much kindness! Truly men are not always what they seem to be.