A large house had been previously got ready for the accommodation of the caravan. As soon as we had alighted, we were introduced, by the governor of the village to a room, in the midst of which flamed a magnificent fire of argols, in a large earthen basin. We were invited to seat ourselves on thick cushions of green Pou-Lou, and we were served immediately with buttered tea. We were, in fact, surrounded by such care and attention, that our hearts began to open. This kind of travelling seemed marvellous to us. What a contrast to the hard and laborious life we had spent in the desert, where a halt was only an aggravation of misery to us. To travel without being obliged to pitch a tent and to see to the animals; without being put to any straits for fuel and food, seemed the realization of a brilliant utopia. As soon as we dismounted, to find a warm room, and a large pitcher of buttered tea, was for us absolute sybaritism.
Soon after our arrival we received the official visit of the Grand Lama, whom the Regent had appointed to accompany us to the frontiers of China, and with whom we had as yet merely exchanged a few compliments as we crossed the river. This individual called Dsiamdchang, that is to say, the musician, was a thick-set man, about 60 years of age, who had fulfilled administrative functions
in several parts of Thibet. Before being recalled to Lha-Ssa, he occupied the post of Dheba-general, in a district some little distance from Ladak; his large and somewhat wrinkled countenance was full of good nature. His character partook of the frankness and open disposition of a child. He told us that the Regent had commanded him to come here expressly on our account, that he might see we wanted nothing, during the time we were in the regions subject to the Talé-Lama. He then presented to us two young Thibetians, on whom he pronounced a long and pompous eulogium. “These two men,” said he, “have been specially appointed to serve you on the way. Whatever you command them to do, that they must do punctually. As to your refreshments,” added he, “as you are not accustomed to the Thibetian cookery, it has been arranged that you shall take them with the Chinese Mandarin.”
After a brief conversation with the Lama Dsiamdchang, we had,
in fact, the honour to sup in the company of Ly, the pacificator of kingdoms, who lodged in a chamber contiguous to our own. Ly-Kouo-Ngan was very complaisant, and gave us a great deal of information about the route we were to pursue, and which he himself was now travelling for the eighth time. That we might be enabled to have every day correct notions of the countries through which we were passing, he lent us a Chinese work, containing an itinerary from Tching-Tou, the capital of Sse-Tchouen to Lha-Ssa. This book is entitled, “Oui-Tsang-Thou-Tchi,” that is to say, “A description of Thibet, with engravings.” This compilation, from various Chinese notices of Thibet, was drawn up by a Mandarin named Lou-Houa-Tchou, who, in the 51st year of Kien-Long (1786), was charged with the commissariat of the Chinese army. Father Hyacinthe, the Russian archimandrite at Peking, published a translation of this sort of geography of Thibet. M. Klaproth, after having revised, corrected, and enriched with notes, the work of the Russian translator, inserted it in the Journal Asiatique. [235] The portion of this Chinese work which concerns the route from Lha-Ssa to the province of Sse-Tchouen, and which we had daily before us during our journey, is extraordinarily exact; but this dry and laconic itinerary can be of no interest except to persons occupying themselves specially with geography, or who travel through the places it mentions. It is merely an arid nomenclature, stage by stage, of the places you find on the way. To give an idea of it, we will transcribe the article relative to our first day’s journey.
“FromDetsin-Dzoug to the halt of Tsai-Li. “From Tsai-Li to the inn atLha-Ssa. | |
“At Detsin-Dzoug there are several inns, in whichtravellers generally stop for some time; near the road is apost-house. Thence a journey of 40 lis takes you to theconvent of Tsai-Li | 40 lis. |
“At Tsai-Li, there is a Dheba who suppliestravellers with wood and hay; this district is separated only bya river from the territory of Lha-Ssa; you reach this last place,after a journey of 20 lis; there is a military commandantthere | 20 lis. |
Total | 60 lis.” |
We set out from Detsin-Dzoug before daybreak, for we had a long way to go. We followed the same valley we had entered, on
quitting the town of Lha-Ssa. But as we advanced, the mountains, with which this large plain is surrounded, rose insensibly in the horizon, and seemed to draw near us; the valley grew narrower and narrower; the ground became more and more stony; the farms less frequent; and the population lost by degrees that appearance of refinement and civilization which is always observable in the environs of large towns. After a rapid and uninterrupted march of 80 lis we stopped to take a little repose and refreshment in a large and ruinous Buddhist convent, which served as a residence for some old ragged Lamas. The poverty in which they lived rendered them unable to offer to the staff of the caravan anything but tea with milk, a pot of beer, and a small roll of butter. However, by adding to these provisions, some biscuit and a leg of mutton which the cook of Ly-Kouo-Ngan had been civil enough to prepare for us on the previous evening, we realized a sufficiently substantial repast.
As soon as we had satisfied our appetite and refreshed our limbs, we thanked these poor religious Buddhists with a khata, or scarf of blessings, and then remounted our horses. It was already late, and we had yet 40 lis to go before we reached our night stage. It was pitch-dark when we arrived at Midchoukoung. Our first care was to summon our Thibetian grooms, and bid them get ready our beds as soon as possible. We considered that after a long journey on a bad horse, we might dispense with ceremony. After partaking of a light repast, and saying our prayers, we wished a good night to the Pacificator of Kingdoms, and to the Lama musician, and proceeded to bury ourselves under the coverlid.