We camped on a rock bare of snow, and passed another miserable night with nothing to drink, and but a couple of dry biscuits to stave off our hunger. To add to my misery, Ugyen was still suffering, and I had to give him half my covering, for he had none of his own; and so, with not even enough room to lie down, we passed the night huddled together, the loads placed on the lower side of the rock so as to prevent our falling off in our sleep.
December 1.—’Twas not yet dawn when all were on foot and busy packing up. The track was hardly visible; below our path lay the great glacier, extending for miles, which feeds the Tashi-rabka river. The snowy sides of the mountains beyond this were furrowed by glacial streams, very noticeable in their varied shades of blue and green, and on the surface of the glacier itself rose huge rounded surfaces, or hummocks, evidently produced by boulders concealed under the ice.
Following carefully in the footsteps of Phurchung, we crossed some six spurs of the Dorjetagh range, and then came to an easy path down the central moraine of a former glacier, now only a huge heap of boulders and débris. The mountains lost, as we advanced, [[36]]the whitish colour peculiar to the Indian ranges, and assumed the blackish or ochre colour distinctive of the Tibetan region. ’Twas with a feeling of intense relief that we finally discerned vegetation and heard the babbling of a little brook, near which flew birds feeding on rhododendron and juniper berries, and a little way off we saw some herds of yaks grazing, and smoke rising from a camp fire. Here we stopped at the foot of a great rock, and enjoyed, after our long fast of two days, a meal of rice and buttered tea.
We continued down the course of the stream, passing with some apprehension near a huge bull-yak or shalu, though low stone walls separated us from him and kept him away from the she-yaks (di) in the adjacent pasturage. This part of the valley is frequently visited by packs of wolves, which kill large numbers of yaks, but the bulls are able to drive them off with their long sharp horns.
At 3 p.m. we passed Dsongo, the extreme border of the district of Tashi-rabka, and where are the ruins of a stone house built on a huge boulder. This was formerly a stage-house used by the Sikkim Raja’s people, when the Yangma and Wallung districts still belonged to him, when going to or returning from Tibet. A little way beyond this point we met some herdsmen, who made inquiries as to whence we came and where we were going. Near by were their tents, where I noticed two swarthy women and a fierce Tibetan mastiff. Phurchung entered one of the tents, sat down to chat and drink a cup of tara, a sort of thin curd.[52]
Ugyen was much preoccupied about our getting by Tashi-rabka and escaping its headman (Tongzungpa). At about 6 o’clock we were close to the village, and so we hid till dusk in a gully, where we boiled our tea and ate some tsamba. The moon shone out brightly when we resumed our march and passed along a portion of a high stone wall, erected by the Tibetans during the Nepalese war, when, it is said, they put up five miles of it in a day under orders of their general, the Shape Shata.[53] This wall is carried across the [[37]]river on a bridge, where it has eight small watch towers. It crosses the whole valley, its ends being high up on the sides of the mountains. On the farther side of the wall is the village. Ugyen and Phurchung stood trembling, not knowing whether to turn back towards the Kangla chen pass or to proceed onward towards the chorten, near which the headman resides. Phuntso alone was equal to the occasion. “If the guards are awake, we will sing some of our national Wallung songs, and pass ourselves off for Wallungpa.” After a few words of encouragement to the others, we set out. Before we had reached the chorten, a voice from a yak-hair tent cried out, “Whence are you, and where are you going?” To which Phuntso replied that we were Wallungpa going to Shigatse, asked them where they were going, and without waiting for a reply we hurried on and passed by the dreaded headman’s house without awakening any one, not even the fierce mastiffs tied up in front of the dwelling.
About 30 yards beyond the house we came to the bridge, a rough structure of logs and stone slabs. The Tashi-rabka river was partly frozen, and its swift current was sweeping down blocks of ice. We crossed over unnoticed, and I then broke the silence with thanks to merciful God who had enabled us to overcome this the most dreaded of all difficulties, one which had frightened my staunch friend Phurchung, that the snows of the Kangla chen had not daunted.
We followed the river in an easterly direction, passing on the way two poor traders (Gyagar Khamba[54]) who were going to Wallung to sell a wild sheep (nao) they had killed. Then we came to Ri-u, where is a large Nyingma[55] monastery, and three miles further on to a bridge over the two branches of the river. ’Twas nearly midnight when we reached a sand-covered hillock called Shara, where we halted for the night, and slept in a sheepfold, near which two hunters with a hound (shyakhi) were also camped.
December 2.—At sunrise we resumed our journey, and after an hour’s march got sight of the village of Guma Shara, at the foot of a range of mountains trending north-west and south-east. Leaving [[38]]this village some miles away (on our right?), we turned a little to the north and made for the Langbu la. There was not a soul to be seen on the vast table-land we were traversing, only a few little birds like swallows twittered on the hillsides by the way, and some kites were soaring in the sky near Guma Shara. We ascended steadily till we came to the foot of the pass, from which point the summit was reached by a zigzag cut in the rocks, the whole surface of which was inscribed with the mystic syllables, Om mani padmé hum.[56] I became so fatigued before the summit (some 700 feet above the plateau) was reached, that Phuntso had to carry me up; and Ugyen also made the ascent on Phurchung’s back, as he was still feeling very badly and was quite unable to keep up with us. From the summit we could see due north, perched on a lofty peak, the Lhakha of Sakya, and to our west were snow-clad peaks of the lofty Perugh mountains.
On the northern slope of the Langbu we found much drifted sand, and a short distance from the foot of the pass we came to the source of the Ge river,[57] where we met a party of rice-collectors (dadubpa) on their way to Tashi-rabka with a dozen yaks and some donkeys, there to buy rice from the Wallung traders. While Phurchung talked to one of them, a former acquaintance, I slipped by without attracting their attention; for had they spoken to me, they would certainly have detected my nationality by my appearance and speech.