Three Years in Tibet

by Ekai Kawaguchi

QUARREL BETWEEN BROTHERS.

About four o’clock that afternoon the four returned. They must have listened for some time to the conversation between Dawa and myself, for as soon as they entered the tent, the most wicked of the three brothers severely scolded Dawa for flirting with a man. Upon this, the girl’s father at once took her side, and snappishly told his brother that his Dawa had a father to protect her, and therefore wanted nobody to meddle with her, much less an uncle who had never given her even so much as one bowl of flour since she was born.

The quarrel waxed hotter and fiercer, and the brothers began to abuse each other and to divulge each other’s crimes. One accused the other of being a robber, and of having murdered men at such and such places, and was met with the recriminating accusation of having attempted to rob the Government and of having fled for fear of arrest. The wordy warfare at last developed into actual blows, and the brothers exchanged fisticuffs, and even began to hurl stones at each other. I thought I must interfere, and so I jumped up and attempted to hold back the youngest brother as he was about to spring at Dawa’s father. The fellow struck my cheek with his bony knuckles with such force that I fell, and my whole frame shook with pain. The confusion in the tent had reached its climax, and Dawa was beginning to cry and so was also her aunt. I remained a passive spectator of the rest of this terrible scene, for I had to lie prostrate from the pain. Presently the sun set and the quarrel too spent itself and the night passed without any further outbreak.

The next morning the party broke up, for each brother wanted to go his way, the eldest with his wife, the second with his daughter, and the third alone, as was also the case with me; so we had to disperse, each for his own destination. One thing that troubled me was the lack of sheep to carry my effects. At last I purchased two at six tanka each, and separating myself from the rest proceeded in the south-easterly direction. One of the brothers started for the north, while I could see the others were retracing the road we had come along.

I had heard before that I must push on rapidly, but I purposely took the south-easterly direction, in order to throw off the scent any of the brothers who might come after me to rob me, or even worse. And so I proceeded in this direction, and by about sunset I reached the brow of a hill, where I was obliged to bivouac in the open, and on a snow-covered plain. The change was too sudden after having lived for so long in the tent, and I could not snatch even one wink of sleep during the night. On the following day, still continuing in the same direction, I reached a small monastery of the name of Sha Chen Khangba, where I remained that day and the next. For the first time since I parted with the brothers and the troublesome women, I felt safe, for I concluded that I was no longer in danger of being pursued by one of the murderous gang. I saw only two priests in the temple, and I spent most of my time in stitching my worn-out boots and clothes.

While I was staying in the monastery one of my sheep suddenly fell ill and died. I felt sorely grieved at his death, and read a suitable service for him. The other sheep I had to sell, at half the price I had paid for him, to one of four traders who arrived at the monastery soon after I had reached it, for I could hardly manage him now, as he was so peevish and disconsolate at the loss of his partner. To the four men I also gave the flesh of the dead sheep, and they accepted it with thanks. It happened that the party was travelling in the same direction as myself, and they proposed that I should go with them. This was quite a welcome suggestion, especially as the men were kind enough to offer their services to carry my effects, for they had with them a number of yaks.

So once more I had travelling companions, and I left the monastery with a far more cheerful heart than I had when I reached it. We proceeded in a south-easterly direction, and soon came to a small round pond, a little over half a mile in circumference. Proceeding along the right side of the pond, we next came to a lake which is very long from north-west to south-east, but very narrow. The whole circumference is said to be about forty miles. This lake is bounded by rocky hills on all sides, and the blackish rocks scattered here and there were partially covered, especially in the crevices and sheltered spots between the adjoining rocks, with a thin layer of snow, so that they presented quite a pretty sight. I ascended a small elevation close by the lake, and looked down on it and also on the small pond. From that height the serpentine lake looked just like the fabulous dragon in the act of clutching a round gem, the pond corresponding to the gem. The snow-streaked rocks were not unlike a white fleece of cloud. This lake is known by the name of Kong-gyu-i Tso, as I heard from my fellow travellers. After proceeding about seventeen miles south-eastwards, with the lake on our left, we reached its extremity. Here we were to bivouac, as we had no tent, but I could not sleep on the snow-covered plain. I therefore passed the night in my usual style, that is to say, in religious meditation, the best expedient for a sleepless night.

Our road lay next day over a steep hill, and it was indeed such a break-back ascent that it seemed to be trying even to the sturdy legs and lungs of my Tibetan companions. As for myself, I was lucky enough to get permission to ride on a yak’s back, and so I could negotiate the ascent with no great difficulty. Descending the opposite slope of the hill we soon reached a plain which, together with all the adjoining country, was situated in the Kong-gyu district. On this plain I noticed a white spot, not unlike a lake at a distance. My companions informed me that the white thing was puto, and that the white spot indicated the site of a lake which produced natural soda.