There is another custom even more singular than that. The power of jurisdiction over the district resides in the person of the Ngak-pa, this being founded on the belief that the plentitude or deficiency of the crops each summer is dependent entirely on his power. The Ngak-pa being thus the administrator of justice receives a large salary in that capacity in addition to his income as preventer of hail. It might therefore be supposed that this class of priests is quite wealthy, but the Tibetan Ngak-pas are most of them singularly poor. Their gains, coming from deception founded upon the superstition of the people, are soon dissipated, for what is ill-got is ill-spent, as the saying is. But the influence they exercise over the people is very strong. For instance, when a poor-looking Ngak-pa, attired like a beggar, meets with a fine gentleman on the road, the latter is sure to stick out his tongue and to bow down in profound respect. So these Ngak-pas gain much in peaceful days, though they are at the same time subject to a heavy penalty when the hail season sets in. Occasionally too, some of them are flogged on their naked bodies. The Tibetans are very strict in this respect, and no nobleman who has committed wrong is spared a flogging because of his caste. So far about the hail tax.
From this temple I went eastwards for about seven miles, when I came to a village called Yase. From the mountains east of this village flows a river called Yakchu, which, running north-west, empties itself into the Brahmapuṭra. Some European maps incorrectly give the Yakchu as having its source in lake Yamdo. Going on some two miles, I found one of the strangest lakes in the world. It is called lake Yamdo-Tso in Tibetan, but some foreign maps call it lake Palti. Palti however is not the name of the lake, but of the village on the western side. The lake is about one hundred and eighty miles in circumference, and has an island with a mountain range in its centre. Many lakes have small islands in them, but authoritative geographers state that none has so large a mountain as this. I must, however, here say that the land in the lake is connected with the main land at two points on the south, so that it is not actually an island. No words can describe the beautiful scenery here. The lofty peaks of the Himālayas stand high in a line from the south-east to the south-west of the lake, and add to its magnificence, and the tempest often lashes it into high waves, which dash roaring upon the shore. Standing on a high rock by the shore, I marvelled to see the terrible scene of the angry lake waves, with the peaks of the Himālayan mountains amidst the clouds, looking like a superhuman being.
I proceeded for about four miles to the east, and then the road turned to the north-east. On the left stood a wall of high mountains, while on the right I could see the peaks of mountains in the lake. I went east and then north along a rather wide path by the lake for about six miles, till I came to Palti. There is a castle on a hill in this village, and very beautiful the lake looks when the castle throws its shadow on the water.
I lodged at a house at the foot of this castle. I had walked twenty-five miles that day, but the invigorating mountain scenery dispelled my fatigue, though I had been very tired. On the following day, March 16th, I started at four o’clock, in the snow and ice, and went north-east along the lake. There were mountains on the left and the lake on the right, as before. The path went pretty nearly north, but straight up and down in a zig-zag along the mountain. Often I slipped on the ice, or went deep into the snow, and I encountered much trouble, which was, however, almost nothing when compared with those which I had met in passing over the Himālayas.
At dawn I climbed up the mountain in deep snow, and looked down upon the surface of the lake. I could see among the shadows of the mountains the crescent moon beautifully reflected dimly and faintly on the water. The bright day was soon coming, the moon began already to lose its dim light, and the morning star twinkled on the surface of the water. Amid the charms of nature I lost all my fatigue and weariness, and I stood quite entranced. Soon the water-fowl were heard on the sands along the lake, and some mandarin ducks were amusing themselves in the water, while cranes were wildly flying about with noisy cries. What a contrast it was with the scene of the day before! No pleasure on a journey can be greater than travelling in this way at dawn. I still went on for about twelve miles along the lake and came to a little stream in the mountains at about nine o’clock. It is here that travellers make tea, and bake their wheat for eating. The lake is full of water, but it is poisonous.
A strange story is told about how it turned poisonous. About twenty years ago, as the Tibetans tell, the famous Saraṭ Chanḍra Ḍās, an Indian by birth, who passed for an Englishman, came from India and pronounced a spell upon the lake; the water at once turned as red as blood. A lama, they say, came along and turned the water back to its original color, but it still remained poisonous. One cannot believe anything that the Tibetans say, but the water seems to have really turned red. Saraṭ Chanḍra Ḍās cannot have done that, but, unfortunately for him, it was just after his return from Tibet that the water thus changed. Saraṭ Chanḍra Ḍās, as every one knows, is an Indian, but Tibetans, with few exceptions, think him to be an Englishman. Any way the water of the lake must have been poisonous for a long time, for the water is stagnant, there being no current, and there are divers poisonous elements near the lake.
There also seem to be places where I think there must be coal; I saw several kinds of strange ores and many kinds of herbs which I think may have dissolved in the water and have colored it. I have seen some foreign maps in which the water of this lake is made to flow into the Brahmapuṭra, which is quite false.
I found several persons taking lunch as we did amid this beautiful scenery. This being the way that runs between Lhasa and Shigatze there were travellers on it, among whom was a soldier from Nepāl. He was one of the most humorous fellows I ever saw, and was very good company for me.