I was surprised to see such powerful and wealthy chiefs kotow before the minister; but great is the triumph in this country of the Church over the laity, and the greatest ministers of state fall down at the feet of the incarnate lamas!
Dinner was served with great ceremony. As soon as the minister had said grace, all fell to with chopsticks and spoon, and partook of each succeeding course in profound silence. After dinner, tea was served, when at last the silence was broken, conversation began, and the guests were shown the minister’s curios, the watches and the stereoscopic views especially interesting them.
In the evening there was a review in the pleasure grove, or linga, [[83]]by the commander of the militia, when exercise in musketry, running, archery, etc., took place in the presence of the two dignitaries.
January 3.—After tea I was asked to read English with the minister. He transliterated the English words phonetically, but did not take the trouble of spelling them, observing that his ordinary duties left him hardly any time to devote to study. He intended asking the Grand Lama to relieve him for a time from his numerous duties in connection with the Church, when he hoped to be able to apply himself assiduously to the study of English.
Breakfast was now brought in, and consisted of a kind of pot-herb, called pa-tsal,[42] cured in the cold draught, potatoes, and radishes, which had been kept in sand underground. I asked the minister if I might go to visit the Palkhor choide of Gyantse with the Tung-chen on the morrow; and having obtained his consent, two ponies were ordered to be ready for an early start.
January 4.—The ponies were ready at an early hour, and after receiving from the minister a few khatag to present to the deities of the Palkhor choide, the Tung-chen and I rode off.
Our way lay across fields watered by the Nyang chu. The Nyang chu valley is one of the richest in Tibet, and extends from Shigatse to about 15 miles beyond Gyantse, a distance of from 60 to 70 miles, and has an average breadth of 10, every inch of which is cultivated. Its great natural fertility, and its being so very favourable for the growth of different kinds of millet and pulses, has given the whole district the name of Nyang, or “land of delicacies,” and the river which fertilizes it has been called Nyang chu,[43] or “the river of delicious water.”
Flocks of wild geese and ducks were swimming on the river, near the bank of which our road now and then led us, and long-billed cranes were stalking along searching for food. From the bushes of furze and other thorny plants with which the river banks were overgrown, hares[44] leaped out and made off towards the mountain recesses, [[84]]and beautiful little birds, probably a variety of kingfisher, were seen fishing in the stream—but the Tung-chen said that though the bird was pretty to look at, it emitted a most offensive odour from its body.
Passing a few villages, we came to a stream flowing into the Nyang chu from the south. Here were two flour-mills, of which we had seen at least a dozen since leaving Shigatse. They were very large, and the stones four times the size of our ordinary millstones in India. In the village of Gyabshi the people seemed very industrious, the women engaged with their looms or spinning, the men tending sheep or collecting fuel from the fields.
When we came within two miles of Gyantse, our attention was attracted by the Tse-chan monastery, the entire north-eastern slope of a hill being closely covered by its whitewashed houses, so that it looked like a great castle of towering height. The Tung-chen told me that this lamasery was nearly eight hundred years old, and that the great reformer Tsong-khapa had spent several years here in the study of metaphysics (tsan-nyid). I was also shown the Tinkar la, by which herdsmen travel to the foot of the Lachan pass of Sikkim, this being the shortest route between Gyantse and the latter country.