May 11.—A messenger arrived to-day to inform us that the Lhacham would leave Gyantse the next morning, and that we would do well to see her at Gyankhar before she started; so, though I was feeling very poorly, I made up my mind to start at once.
My ponies were brought inside the monastery by Pador, a stalwart young fellow who had been several times to Lhasa, and who had been chosen by the Chyag-dso-pa[10] to accompany me, and I got ready to leave early on the morrow.
At an early hour the next day I went with Tsering-tashi to see the minister, ask his protection (kyab ju), and beg to be favoured with his advice as to the conduct of our journey, or sung-ta, as it is called.
As is usual on such occasions, each of us presented him with a khatag, in the corner of which were tied up a few tankas in a bit of paper, on which was written our request.
After a hurried breakfast, while the servants were engaged in saddling the ponies and packing, I went and kotowed to the Buddha in the temple, placed khatag on the sacred images, and distributed alms to the monks assembled in the courtyard to offer prayers for my safe journey. Then I returned to my room, picked out the handsomest khatag I possessed, and presented it to the minister. His holiness graciously touched my head with his palms, and in solemn tones said, “Sarat Chandra, Lhasa is not a good place. The people there are not like those you meet here. The Lhasa people are suspicious and insincere. You do not know, and, in fact, you cannot read their character. I advise you not to stay long in one place there. The Lhacham Kusho is a powerful personage in Lhasa; she will protect you, but you should so behave as rarely to require her protection. Stay not long in the vicinity of the Dabung or Sera monasteries. If you intend to make a long stay at Lhasa, choose your residence in a garden or village in the suburbs. You [[127]]have chosen a very bad time for your pilgrimage, as small-pox is raging all over Central Tibet; but you will return safely, though the journey will be trying and fraught with immense difficulties.”[11] Then, turning to Tsering-tashi, around whose neck the minister’s page put a khatag, he said to him, “Tsing-ta, I believe you know whom you are accompanying. You should serve him as you would serve me; your relations with him must be those of a son with his parents.”
After saying good-bye to the members of the minister’s household, presenting and receiving khatag and various other little presents, and drinking tea, I mounted my pony and set out for Gyantse. Thus did I start on a journey to a hostile, inhospitable, and unknown country with only two men as my companions, and they strangers to me.
At a huge willow stump I waited a while for Tsering-tashi to join me, for Pador, with the pack-pony, had gone to his home to get his lance. As Tsering-tashi came up, he was delighted to see water flowing from a pool in the direction we were to follow; this he took for a most auspicious sign. On reaching chorten, about a mile from the town, we alighted and waited for Pador, who shortly after made his appearance with a lance full 12 feet long in his hand.
By noon we reached Gyantse, and, passing rapidly through the market-place, where I feared to be recognized, we entered the Gyankhar, or castle of Gyantse.
At 1 p.m. the Lhacham and her sons started for Lhasa, and as she passed by me she told me to meet her at Gobshi that evening.
I was now surrounded by the Chyag-dso-pa and his family, all curious to see the Indian physician of whom they had heard so much of late. From what the Chyag-dso-pa told me, I concluded he had chronic bronchitis, which might end in consumption. I gave him a few grains of quinine and some doses of elixir of paregoric, and directed him also as to his diet.