The relations between ourselves and the Chinese at Lhasa I always tried to preserve as cordial as possible. Chinese suzerainty was definitely recognized in the Treaty, and all the way through the negotiations I had tried to carry the Resident with me. It was no part of our policy to supplant the Chinese. We had no idea of annexing Tibet or establishing a protectorate over it. We merely wanted to insure that no one else had a predominant influence in the country, that order was preserved, and that ordinary trade facilities should be accorded us. There was nothing in this to arouse the antagonism or jealousy of the Chinese, and as I always tried to treat the Resident with respect, I expected, and did, in fact, receive, his hearty co-operation. We each of us could and did help the other, to the advantage of both.
CHAPTER XX
THE RETURN
Lord Cromer, when I saw him at Cairo on my way home, made a remark which showed an unusually appreciative insight into situations such as we were in at Lhasa. He said that everyone was praising us for reaching Lhasa, but he thought most Englishman could do that. What he considered really praiseworthy was our getting back again. In such situations ragged ends are often left, resentments incurred, entanglements formed, which make it difficult to retire with grace or even to retire at all. We were happy in this case to be able to return to India on better terms with the Tibetans than we had ever been before.
On September 22 I exchanged farewell visits with the Chinese Resident. In the reserved Chinese way he was cordial enough, and we had always got on well together. But he was in a very nasty position between the Tibetans on the one hand and his own Government on the other, and he was subsequently degraded and put into chains for having, it was locally reported, been too favourable to us.
The Members of the Council also visited me, bringing presents, for the third time, and assuring me of their friendly sentiments. They begged me never again to entertain suspicion regarding them, and to believe that they fully intended to carry out the Treaty.
Before leaving on the following morning, the Ti Rimpoche visited me, and presented each of us with an image of Buddha. He had also visited General Macdonald and given him a similar image. He was full of kindliness, and at that moment more nearly approached Kipling’s Lama in “Kim” than any other Tibetan I met. We were given to understand that the presentation by so high a Lama to those who were not Buddhists of an image of Buddha himself was no ordinary compliment. And as the reverend old Regent rose from his seat and put the present into my hand, he said with real impressiveness that he had none of the riches of this world, and could only offer me this simple image. Whenever he looked upon an image of Buddha he thought only of peace, and he hoped that whenever I looked on it I would think kindly of Tibet. I felt like taking a part in a religious ceremony as the kindly old man spoke those words; and I was glad that all political wranglings were over, and that now we could part as friends man with man.
A mile from the town a large tent had been set up by the roadside, and here we found the whole Council, a number of the leading men of Lhasa, and the Chinese Resident’s first and second secretaries, all assembled to bid us a final farewell. Tea was served, and then, with many protestations of friendship, we shook hands for the last time, remounted our ponies, and rode away.
When I reached camp, I went off alone to the mountainside and gave myself up to all the emotions of this eventful time. My task was over and every anxiety was passed. The scenery was in sympathy with my feelings; the unclouded sky a heavenly blue; the mountains softly merging into violet; and, as I now looked towards that mysterious purply haze in which the sacred city was once more wrapped, I no longer had cause to dread the hatred it might hide. From it came only the echo of the Lama’s words of peace. And with all the warmth still on me of that impressive farewell message, and bathed in the insinuating influences of the dreamy autumn evening, I was insensibly suffused with an almost intoxicating sense of elation and good-will. This exhilaration of the moment grew and grew till it thrilled through me with overpowering intensity. Never again could I think evil, or ever again be at enmity with any man. All nature and all humanity were bathed in a rosy glowing radiancy; and life for the future seemed nought but buoyancy and light.
Such experiences are only too rare, and they but too soon become blurred in the actualities of daily intercourse and practical existence. Yet it is these few fleeting moments which are reality. In these only we see real life. The rest is the ephemeral, the unsubstantial. And that single hour on leaving Lhasa was worth all the rest of a lifetime.