At the bridge they were halted by more leather-helmeted guards who, after glancing at their passports, held a short conversation with the two soldiers from the outpost, then explained, through the usual channel of translation, that Trent's caravan would have to remain at Amber Bridge until the news of their arrival was communicated to "certain authorities" in the city.
A soldier dashed off along the causeway, while Trent, vaguely troubled, allowed his pony to be led into a mud-walled compound at one side of the road. There he and the other members of the caravan dismounted, and there they waited, somewhat apprehensive, for over an hour.
When the messenger returned he was accompanied by a small cortège, all soldiers but one, who, from his dress, was a dignitary of the city. He rode a white horse and wore a robe of orange-yellow brocaded silk, its wide sleeves faced with peacock-blue. A mushroom-shaped hat surmounted copper-hued Tibetan features. He greeted Trent very graciously in English and informed him that he was Na-chung, a member of the Higher Council, that meaning, he explained, those who assisted the Governor. He said that no doubt it was surprising to hear him speak English, but that he had learned it from a British officer at Gyangtse, at the time of the expedition to Lhassa.... His Transparency the Governor, he stated, had been expecting him for several days and his delay had caused his Transparency no small concern. Then he looked over Trent's men—and when his eyes reached Dana Charteris they halted. It was, for Trent, a breathless moment. But Na-chung smiled amiably and said:
"I understood there were to be only four caravaneers. You have five."
Trent replied that none of the four assigned to him at Tali-fang spoke Tibetan—and how could he travel in Tibet without an interpreter? Therefore, he had presumed to add another to his caravan....
Na-chung continued to smile. "I see," he commented. "And this is the one you added?"—with a gesture toward the girl.
"No," returned Trent. "This one"—indicating Kee Meng.
"I see," repeated Na-chung. "We shall go into the city now, to the house which the Governor has provided for you."
The incident at Amber Bridge had a depressing effect upon Trent and he scarcely heard the inconsequential talk of Na-chung as they moved slowly over the causeway toward the ramparts of Shingtse-lunpo. But when they passed the gates—formidable, iron-studded affairs, with turrets at either side—his fears were temporarily thrust into the background. For the walls of Shingtse-lunpo only hinted at what they enclosed.
Beyond the main town, which sloped down into a depression and was a wilderness of narrow streets and dazzling whitewashed houses (some roofed with blue tiles, others with burnished gold), the ground rose to the one dominating structure—the Lamasery that stood, sheer-walled, upon sharply truncated rocks. Its massive bulk—longer than two city blocks, Trent hazarded—was pierced by row upon row of windows that seemed no larger than loopholes, and naked walls fell away from torn roofs and terrace-like additions. There were other large buildings and tiers of houses, the doors of the upper rows opening upon the roofs of those below, but they cowered beneath the regal mass of Lhakang-gompa, an architectural masterpiece that rose at least two hundred feet from its natural foundations and which Trent could compare only with the descriptions he had heard of the Potala at Lhassa.