December 26.—We were up early, finishing our letters and getting Phurchung ready for his journey to the Sikkim frontier. After tea I sent Ugyen to the market to buy provisions for our journey, and he brought back a large quantity of ping, a piece of mutton, and vegetables, and also purchased some fresh gya-tug (vermicelli), of which I had become very fond. Two strong ponies were waiting saddled for us in charge of a groom at the western gateway (gyalgo) of the monastery. Our traps and bags being made over to the charge of the Tung-chen’s men, we left Tashilhunpo at 3 p.m., and rode off at a gentle trot towards the village of Tashi-gyantsa. The Tung-chen wore his church raiment, and a silk-lined chosa,[1] or clerical hat, covered his head; but as soon as we had reached this village he changed it for a fox-skin cap lined with brown satin. The view of Tashilhunpo from Tashi-gyantsa was most beautiful, and the four gilded tombs of the former Tashi lamas, situated in the middle of the lamasery, blazed in the rays of the sun.[2]
One approaches Tashi-gyantsa by a lane cut through a hillock some 20 feet high, on top of which the village stands. The alleys are crooked and dirty, the houses of comfortable appearance, are painted with clay in bands of red, black, and blue colour, and surrounded by walls forming a courtyard in front of each. On the left of the road is a neatly constructed mendong. The whole village is inhabited by clerks, copyists, painters, and artisans from Tashilhunpo, most of whom get allowances (pod) from Labrang. Cattle (jo) are plentiful [[70]]in the village, and as we passed, a few yaks with pack-saddles on their backs were being led off from the village by two tall, savage-looking men dressed in goatskin gowns (bokhu). The old people sat in their doorways, warming themselves in the sun, and a caravan of yaks and donkeys had halted at the chorten just outside the village.
We passed by Perong shavea, a group of hamlets, in the midst of which is a little garden and a willow grove; then by the village of Deki-rabdan; and when two miles from Tashi-gyantsa we reached the large village of Khara Tedong, the chief of which is a Dahpon (general), lately dismissed from a command at Gartok, near Rudok. Judging from the outward appearance of the houses, the village is prosperous. Passing the villages of Sunapara and Sarsha, and leaving Doring and Semaron on our right, we came, after two miles, to the Num chu, now a nearly dried-up stream, which comes down from the mountains to the north-west of Nartang, which border the plateau-like valley of Chyugpu shung. A little to the east of this stream is the large village of Gyatso-shar, composed of a dozen hamlets forming two or three groups.
At 5 p.m. we reached the village of Chyang chu, about a quarter of a mile from the Num chu, belonging to our friend the minister. To the east of the hamlet is a little garden, and in it a small house called Lobding; here the minister spends a few days during the autumn holidays, and takes the baths. Chyang chu is the birthplace of the Tung-chen, and we put up in his house, at the gate of which were chained two big mastiffs. Two servants assisted us to alight from our ponies, and two held the dogs back while we walked in. The headman of the village, the Deba Shikha,[3] received us, and recognized me as an old acquaintance. We were conducted to the central room of the upper story, where we found two stuffed seats (bu-dan) spread for us. The room, though spacious, was dark and dusty, and a heap of yak-hair bags, resembling Indian gunnies, filled a corner of the room. My servant, Lhagpa-sring, spread my khamba rug on the seats, and busied himself fetching our bags and traps from the courtyard. The Deba presently arrived, and begged us to refresh ourselves with tea and chang. Lhagpa, looking with peculiar eagerness at the maid-servant who was pouring chang in Ugyen’s cup, winked at her to fill his cup from her bowl, but to his disappointment she turned away; but shortly after another maid appeared with a large [[71]]bowl, and poured out wine to the servants. Then the Deba’s wife, with a very pretty jug in her hand, came to serve me, but I declined. After a few minutes dinner was served in tin-lined copper dishes resembling salad-bowls, the first course consisting of minced mutton and tsamba. This was followed by minced mutton and vermicelli, the Deba waiting upon me himself, to show me the attention due to a guest from a distant country.
After dinner the Tung-chen, who had taken his meal in a separate room, led me to his mother’s room, where old lady Angla[4] and the Deba’s son, Damdul, were sitting around a blazing fire in a stove (jalang). The old lady had seen upwards of eighty summers, and her hair was snowy white. I joined the party, which was shortly added to by the entrance of several other members of the household, and we sat drinking tea and talking of the sacred cities of India, of Vajrashena, Varanasi, and Kapilavastu, and the state of Buddhism in modern India. Angla sighed repeatedly when she heard that all their sacred places in India were now in ruins. I then gave her a short history of ancient India and Tibet, which delighted the whole party, and the Tung-chen expressed himself highly pleased with my narrative. Before taking leave for the night of my kind host, I presented the Tung-chen with a couple of rupees, and his mother with one. They very reluctantly accepted them, saying, however, that as it was their duty to please me, they would not deny me the pleasure of making them presents. Lhagpa led me to my bed, which was spread in a corner of the room where we had dined; and the Deba, coming in to see if I was comfortable, found my wraps rather light, and brought me two thick blankets, in which my servant wrapped me up.
December 26.—The Deba has a dozen jomo and cows yielding plenty of milk. A jomo yields four times the quantity of milk which a cow or female yak gives. The di yak cow, which pastures on mountain-tops, yields ordinarily two seers of milk a day, is not much prized, though yak milk is both sweet and wholesome; but the Tibetans value very highly the jo, which is, besides a good milker, most useful in husbandry. [[72]]
The women of the house were up by four and busy milking and churning. The village looked from afar like one big house, but it is in reality composed of a number of houses, each with a courtyard in front. The place is vulgarly called the “Anthill” (Dog tsang[5]), on account of the great number of serfs inhabiting it. After breakfast, which consisted of boiled mutton, minced radish, and pa-tug, or balls of flour cooked in mutton broth, we mounted our ponies and started off.
To the south-west of Gyatsho-shar[6] is the plateau of Chyugpu Shung, dotted with numerous hamlets, chief of which is Lhena djong. About two miles from Chyang chu is Norgya Nangpa, with numerous hamlets surrounding it, and one mile and a half to the east of Norgya, where the valley approaches the edge of the mountains to the south, is Kena,[7] composed of a dozen hamlets. The houses of Kena are well built and prosperous looking, the door-frames and windows showing considerable taste, and the walls of most of them painted with long blue and red stripes, the favourite colours of the Tibetans. From Kena the mountains of Pankor-shornub,[8] notorious as a lair of brigands, were clearly discernible, and far to the east, across the Nyang chu, we could just discern the village of Sanga-ling. At Kena we crossed, by a culvert some fifteen feet long, an irrigation canal which comes down from Nyang chu. From this point our way lay over a barren plateau more than two miles broad; in the upper part of it are several villages, in the largest of which is the Shalu monastery. A little above the junction of the Shalu with the Nyang chu stands the hamlet of Chuta Chyangma, three or four dilapidated mud hovels, the ground everywhere overgrown with thistles and briars. Here, we were told, the Grand Lama’s[9] camels are pastured in winter. The Nyang chu flows here in several channels, and some cranes were seeking for food in the ice along the banks.
Going south-eastward for nearly two miles and a half, we reached a fertile tract of land, in which stand the villages of Panam-gang, Jorgya, Pishi, Penagangdo, and Natog,[10] which, we were told, belonged [[73]]to Hamdang Kam-tsan of Tashilhunpo. At Jorgya, which belongs to the Djongpon of Pagri, the same who stopped Sir Richard Temple near Chumbi, there is an irrigation canal running from the Nyang chu, and on its bank is a beautiful garden bordered with poplars, willows, and other fine trees. Its walks are tastefully laid out, and the two-storied building in its centre is the finest one this side of Tashilhunpo. In the principal lane of this village is a deep well about four or five feet in circumference at the mouth, and a number of women were drawing water from it in sheep’s paunches.
