Through Unknown Tibet

by M. S. Wellby

After climbing uphill all day long, we were thus compelled to halt for the night in one of the most unsuitable places conceivable. We were right on the summit of the pass, and ahead of us we could see nothing but absolutely barren land; therefore, to have gone any further would have only increased our difficulties, for more animals would certainly have succumbed after a very short distance. We calculated that by giving the mules a night's rest and some of our very limited store of grain, they would recover sufficiently by the morning to enable us to descend again until we found some more grass.

THE LAST CAMP OF OUR TWELVE MULES.

After unloading, we all sallied forth in different directions in search of roots for making a fire, but none of us were successful; all we could discover anywhere was the rhubarb and other hardy plants that will exist in these desolate high-lying places. Ever since the desertion of our muleteers we had carried along with us the poles of the tents we had discarded, so as to be prepared for a crisis of this description, so although our search was in vain, we were able to make sufficient fire to make tea with.

During our hunt for the firewood heavy clouds had been gathering, and occasional showers had made themselves unpleasant. As soon as we had all returned a steady rainfall set in. Our mules had been picketed close to our little tent, for fear of their straying after grass during the night. Altogether our encampment at the top of this desolate pass, some 17,000 feet high, presented a very forlorn picture. Everything was wet or damp, and the poor mules stood with drooping, dripping heads. Still we had hopes of a frost setting in and the ground becoming hard for marching over in the morning. Our two little cats even seemed to feel our deplorable condition, for nothing would induce them to eat any of the raw meat we were able to spare them.

Soon after sunset intense darkness came over everything, and trusting for better fortune the following day, we soon fell asleep. During the night Malcolm happened to go outside the tent, and then returned to rouse me, saying that he thought some of the mules were dead. At first I could scarcely realize or grasp his meaning; a disaster of this description seemed to me incredible. I came out with him, and found six of the twelve lying down as though they were dead. Although it had ceased to rain, there were no stars visible, and the night was still and damp. We roused the men, who brought the candle lantern, and we discovered the astounding truth. Four of them lay stiff and dead—poor brutes! they had done yeoman service for us. Two others were very nearly dead; but even with the united efforts of all six of us we could get neither of them to stand up for a single minute, and they soon followed the fate of the other four.

A drizzling rain now set in, as by the light of the lantern we set about dragging the carcasses aside and removing their blankets to place on the survivors. Beyond this, we could do nothing more but wait for daylight. Then more disaster was added to our sad plight, for another mule died, and we doubted whether there would be any to survive this black night. We concluded that they must have eaten some poisonous plant, for their bellies became distended, they lost all power in their legs, and their groans were pitiable to hear. Our survivors consisted of four mules and one pony, and we now had to set about reducing our baggage to five loads. All that we could possibly do without had to be abandoned—in fact, we only kept one little tent, our bedding, guns, ammunition, and instruments. The two little wild cats were left there to feed on the dead bodies, and should certainly have thrived well. It was 11 o'clock before we dared venture on a descent of the pass, for the ground had become very heavy and sodden.

As we moved off we left a sad scene behind us; seven dead carcasses lay there, and all kinds of things scattered about everywhere. Although we selected the nullah that afforded the best road, still at each step the poor mules sank into the mud above their fetlocks, and sometimes they sank down altogether, when the load had to be taken off, the animal dragged out, and reloaded. We knew our march would have to be a short one, and resolved to halt the moment we reached any grass. But our misfortunes had not yet come to an end, for, after going a short distance, our last pony collapsed completely and died. Shortly afterwards, another mule was added to the list. Three mules alone remained, and we could not know but that they, too, at any moment might die.

After we had gone about four miles, but only with the greatest difficulty, we found a little, but good, grass growing on the bank close by the stream which flowed down the nullah we were following. We at once halted and unloaded the three survivors, who were soon revelling in it. We then sent back and fetched the things we had discarded on the way, and set about re-arranging the remainder of our baggage into three loads. We agreed, too, that all should carry a load strapped like a knapsack on our backs, as well as a rifle and some ammunition, although these latter we had been carrying the whole way. Luckily we found the droppings of wild yak on this patch of grass, so were able to make a fire.