About an hour after dinner we visited Jerung la, the second son of the Chyag-dso Kusho, who is a monk in the castle of Diba Dongtse. This building, about six hundred years old, is built of stone of the best quality; it faces south, and has balconies (rab-sal) provided with shutters along each of its five stories. It is of a partly Indian, partly Tibetan style of architecture, with a central courtyard about 100 feet broad and 200 long. Around this, on the sides, the building is 40 feet high, and has three stories, along the outer edge of which, on the courtyard side, are rows of drum-shaped prayer-wheels two feet high, and as much in diameter, that take the place of railings. There are some three hundred of these prayer-barrels on the stories of the three sides. The main building is on the north side of the court, and is some 60 to 70 feet high. We ascended to the top story by a steep ladder, and were there shown the gonkhang,[57] the shrine of the guardian deities—terrible figures, [[99]]among which I noticed three of Mamos, resembling Jaganath, Balavendra, and Subhadra, of the Hindus.
There were several chapels, in each of which was a resident priest called am-choi. On the balconies of the wings three or four old women were weaving blankets, and at the entrance to the building a huge mastiff was chained, who made furious attempts to rush at us as we passed.
One hundred yards south of the castle is a garden (linga) with tall poplars—some 80 to 100 feet high, and four other kinds of trees planted in rows along its four walks, in the middle of which is a tastefully built summer-house, its cornice and external decorations remarkably pretty. One hundred yards away from it is a target for musket and bow practice.
While we visited the linga a greyhound[58] was running about it, but he paid no attention to us. On our way homeward we passed through the village where, under some tall poplars, tradesmen were displaying pottery for sale. We also saw four yellow-turbaned men, who, we were told, were the tax-collector’s understrappers.
January 9.—While we were breakfasting Rinpoche came in, and again spoke of her hard work and of the merciless treatment of her mother-in-law. I asked her if her husband was not fond of her. “Oh, sir,” she said, “we two are like one soul and body; but he is most of the time at Shigatse, where he is the Dahpon’s steward” (Nyerpa[59]). She told me that she had just heard that her cousin, the Rajah of Sikkim, was coming to Tibet to get married. If his mother came with him, she could surely persuade her to take her with her to Chumbi for a couple of months. She also said to me that her mother-in-law ought not to have given her such a high sounding name as Rinpoche (“the Jewel”), for it is a name given to incarnate lamas and chiefs; but I answered, to her evident pleasure, that Rinpoche was a most appropriate name for handsome and accomplished women.
After this I went to the minister’s apartment for dinner. Before it was served we washed our hands. A large copper bowl, or katora, was placed for the purpose before the minister, who, in washing his [[100]]hands, rubbed them with a kind of wood dust called sugpa,[60] obtained from a plant growing in Tibet, and used instead of soap.
After dinner the Chyag-dso-pa made presents to the minister, consisting of blankets, Tibetan serge (pulo), three pieces of red, scarlet, and yellow English broadcloth, Gyantse rugs of superior quality, Khamba rugs, Chinese brocaded satin, spotted woollen chintz, about two bushels of tsamba, a large quantity of buckwheat cakes, twisted sugar cakes, loaves of bread, and three hundred tankas. The presentation of these gifts he accompanied by profound salutations, and the minister gave him his blessing, when he begged him to pray to the gods to make him prosperous and happy. After this he gave presents of about half the value to the Tung-chen, and so on, less and less, according to each one’s rank; to me he gave two Gyantse rugs, two pieces of spotted pulo, and a khatag. Alms were also distributed among the monks and the minister’s menials.
When the Chyag-dso Kusho had finished making all these presents he returned to the minister’s room, where we were with him. In course of conversation he suggested the propriety of my presenting the Tashi lama with an elephant. He said that two had recently been sent by the Rajah of Sikkim to Lhasa, to be presented to the Dalai lama, one of which had died on the way.[61] He also spoke of the superiority of Indian metal images over those made in Tibet, and said that those made in Magadha, and called jai-khim, were very rare in this country. “If you had brought some of these, or of shar-li [Bengal bell-metal], or nub-li [lower Indus valley],[62] and presented them to the minister, he would have been infinitely more pleased than with glass and other fragile and useless toys.”
In the evening it was settled that the minister should start for Tashilhunpo on the morrow, and that Kusho Jambala, the Chyag-dso-pa’s elder brother, who was suffering from ophthalmia, should accompany him, to submit there to my medical treatment. [[101]]
January 10.—We were up early, and got ready to leave for Tashilhunpo. The Tung-chen advised me to start ahead of the minister, who would overtake me on the road, as he travelled very rapidly, and he furthermore let me pick out for my use the quietest pony in the stable. We had not gone four miles when the minister and four attendants caught up with us. We rode on together some six miles, and when we reached the bed of the stream, now dry, which empties into the Nyang chu, we all alighted. The minister ordered his page to bring him a basketful of earth from a spot he pointed out. This was placed before him as he sat cross-legged on a rug, when he muttered some mantras and made an oblation of tsamba and water. The Tung-chen informed me that on the last journey the minister had made this way he had at this spot fallen from his pony, and it was supposed that some evil spirit haunting this spot was desirous of hurting him, and so this ceremony was performed to drive it away.