After a while the false friend came to take his boys home, when the other came out crying in a loud and pitiful voice, “Friend, my heart bleeds to have to tell you of the misfortune which has befallen you. Your two darlings have been changed into monkeys!” “How can I believe such a story?” the other replied. “If you doubt it, call your sons, and you will see.” So the father called his older son by name, and a monkey came leaping forth, and sat upon his lap, fondling him and chattering to him as if he were an old friend. Filled with surprise, he called his second son, when out came the other monkey, and climbed into his lap also.
After a while the lowlander asked his friend, “How can this have come about? Tell me how it was that the gold was changed into sawdust; it may help to explain this new wonder.” The other, fearing lest his sons had been transformed into monkeys by the incantations of the friend he had deceived, replied, “Friend, I deceived you when I said the gold had been turned into sawdust. I have got it with me; we will divide it equally between us. Is it true, my much injured friend, that my sons have been transformed into monkeys?” “Oh no. How could men become monkeys? Your sons are in excellent health, and are now in one of my distant orchards.” So the two returned to their houses with their respective treasures—the one with his children, the other with his gold.
Years passed by, and the two friends were finally summoned to the court of the Lord of death, there to have their good and bad acts weighed. Their moral merits and their prayers were also weighed, and the balance turned in their favour. A game of chess was then played by the gods and the demon, in which, by means of casting dice, the merits and demerits of gods and men are determined. In the mirror of karma (mundane actions) the two friends saw and blushed for the evil deeds they had done—the gold turned into [[94]]sawdust, and the boys into monkeys. The Lord of death decreed that the uplander should pass five hundred years in hell, and that the other should for five hundred existences be born a monkey. The punishment of the latter was the severer in that he had stolen human beings, and said that they had been transformed into monkeys; but because he had desired to make offerings to the gods when the treasure had been found, the gods had pleaded for him.
Having finished his tale, Dugpa kunleg exhorted the woman to keep from stealing, and threatened her with such-like dire punishment if she did not desist. The woman put the amber back in the beggar’s bag, and the saint left her house and returned to Lhobrag.
Ugyen also heard at Gyantse that much was to be learnt concerning the ancient history of that place in a work called ‘Nyang choi jung Nyimai odser.’ He furthermore told me that he had heard that last year a mendicant from Gyantse visiting Sikkim gave out there that he was one of the discoverers of sacred books of which the Nyingma history of Sikkim makes mention. He showed what he claimed was a very ancient manuscript volume on the propitiatory ritual of Guru Thag-mar, a fearful deity of the Ningma pantheon. The Sikkim rajah gave him a very warm welcome, and, in consultation with the chief lama of his Durbar, arranged to have block prints made of the text. Recently this impostor had returned to Gyantse, bringing with him many valuable copper and brass articles, silk gowns, and coined money.
January 6.—The minister’s mother, accompanied by a maid-servant, came to pay reverence to her saintly son while I was seated with him. I could not believe that she was his mother when I saw her make three profound salutations before the minister, touching the ground with her forehead and receiving his blessing. She then presented him with a few balls of butter and a khatag; and when his holiness said he would leave for Tashilhunpo in three days, she wept bitterly.
January 7.—Early in the morning we received a message from the minister asking us to postpone our departure for Tashilhunpo, as the Chyag-dso-pa much wished me to accompany the minister to his house at Kye-pa Khangsar, where he proposed staying three days.
The parents of the minister, accompanied by their youngest boy, came again to pay their respects. The father, a quiet, respectable-looking, [[95]]elderly man, saluted me by taking off his yellow felt turban and inquiring after my health. They kotowed before the minister, who gave them his blessing by touching the crowns of their heads with his hand.
At 2 o’clock the minister, dressed like a Buddhist cardinal, and accompanied by the Tung-chen, ourselves, and his domestics, entered the grand hall of worship (du-kang), the Tung-chen carrying a bundle of incense-sticks and some khatag. The head lama threw some grains of barley towards the images of the deities, and recited some mantras; then the minister, standing, recited a short prayer, and approaching the image of the Buddha, took off his mitre and placed a khatag on it. Then the head lama took the other khatag which the Tung-chen had brought with him, and flung them one by one at the other images, while the monks who accompanied him scattered flowers before them.
After this we circumambulated the monastery, and descended to the foot of the hill, where the son of the Chyag-dso-pa, dressed in a rich Mongol costume, was awaiting us with two spirited and richly caparisoned ponies held by grooms, one of which the minister mounted, while we walked the short distance which separated us from the gateway of Kye-pa Khangsar. A band of drums, hautboys, bells, gongs, and fifes marched before us, playing as we went through the lay town (sho) and along a broad road lined with poplars to the gate of the Khangsar, where the Chyag-dso-pa was standing to receive the minister. He was dressed in a rich scarlet satin robe girded by a yellow scarf, a yellow woollen turban, and a pair of Tartar velvet boots. His tall stature, graceful looks, broad forehead, and uncommonly well-shaped nose, gave him a commanding appearance. He greeted the minister with a profound bow, and presented him a khatag, and received a blessing (chyag wang) from the latter, who afterwards dismounted, putting his foot on a velvet-covered stool placed here for the purpose.