“No, the money is in my pocket,” I said “and not in the baggage. Being a priest, I never tell a lie. You may have either the money or the baggage, if you wish.”
I was just going to give them money when three horsemen appeared riding towards us, and at sight of them the highwaymen took to their heels, leaving the stick and everything else. Thus I was saved.
“Who are they?” asked the horsemen, and on my answering that they had demanded of me my money and baggage, they expressed their disgust.
“Go to yonder temple,” they added after a little pause, “and you will find a village. Be quick and we will see you safe there.”
I thanked them and walked on toward the village, and the horsemen went away westward after a little while. Instead of stopping there for the night, I proceeded eastwards as far as Nya-mo-Hotta, a little village about seven miles off, where I lodged. The following day I took lunch at Teshok, and stopped at Tak-tsu-kha in the evening. On December 20th at dawn, I went south-east through the deep snow, it having snowed very hard the night before. While going along the river Brahmapuṭra, I saw some cranes walking in the snow, and was so delighted that I forgot that I was in so cold a climate.
Then I amused myself with composing Utas, of which the following is one:
With crystals of the snow, how white the sand
All spotted gleams upon the river banks!
The flocks of cranes to me appear to sing