Captain O’Connor was most warmly received by the Tashi Lama, and laid the foundation of as sincere a friendship as Bogle had with his predecessor. Every arrangement was readily made, and the party was despatched under the best possible auspices. Its result Captain Ryder, who was awarded the gold medal of the Royal Geographical Society, has given in a lecture before that Society.
The survey work had to be conducted under the most trying conditions. Besides the ordinary march, high mountains had to be ascended for purposes of observation and these observations in winds of hurricane force and in piercing cold were wellnigh impossible to make. From a spot directly opposite Everest the surveyors saw this superb mountain towering up high above the rest of the range with a drop of 8,000 feet on either side, and the point was settled that there was no other peak on the north approaching it in height. They surveyed the Brahmaputra (San-po) to its source, as well as the Gartok branch of the Indus. They established the trade-mart at Gartok, installing a native agent there. They completed the survey of the Sutlej from its source (which they concluded was among the hills on either side of the lake region) to British territory. In all they accurately surveyed 40,000 square miles of territory. And after crossing the Himalayas by the Ayi-la (pass), 18,700 feet, in deep snow and with the thermometer 24° below zero, they reached British territory on Christmas Eve, and Simla on January 11. It was a good piece of work, magnificently executed, for which the greatest credit is due to both Captain Rawling and Captain Ryder, and it was an immense relief to hear of their safe arrival in spite of the risks of hostility and of cold.
In the meanwhile Messrs. White, Walsh, Wilton, and myself had proceeded on to India. It was fairly cold even as we crossed the Tang-la, the thermometer not being much above zero, but we were fortunate to escape the blizzard, the 3 feet of snow, and 27° of frost which General Macdonald and the troops experienced a week or two later, and which caused the death of two men and about 200 cases of snow-blindness.
We had a long, steep, cold ride over our final pass—the Nathu-la—and then we rode down and down through all the glorious Sikkim vegetation into soft and balmy ease. A scientific gentleman once asked what was the chief effect of being a long time at high altitudes, and I told him the principal effect was a desire to get to a lower altitude as soon as possible. Now that we were back at ordinary human altitudes, bathed in delicious air and basking in the glorious sunshine, we realized what the strain of those high levels, combined with the biting cold, had been. Life seemed so easy now. There was no more unconscious effort in breathing; no more conscious fighting against the cold. Existence was once again a pleasure, and in the best season of the year, amid the most splendid scenery in the world, with snowy peaks rising sheer out of tropical forests into a cloudless sky, there was little more a man could wish.
But in the midst of this dream of ease, and just the very day before I reached Darjiling, came the rude shock that the best points I had obtained at Lhasa were to be given up. I will deal with this matter in a subsequent Chapter. It is enough here to state that all the pleasure of my return was dashed from me in a moment, and I bitterly regretted ever having undertaken so delicate a task with my hands so tied.
As we approached Darjiling we passed an enthusiastic tea-planter sitting at his gateway with a gramophone, which, as we neared him, struck up “See the Conquering Hero comes.” He said he was by himself, and the gramophone was all the band he had, but he felt he must do something to welcome us; and this, our first greeting in British territory, given with such genuine feeling, went no small way to restoring my spirits.
At the station outside Darjiling I met my wife, and only then realized what the strain and anxiety to her my absence in Tibet must have caused. We went by rail to Darjiling itself, and there I had the unexpected honour of being welcomed on the platform by the kindly Sir Andrew Fraser, Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, and nearly the whole of the European residents in the place. They had all—and particularly Sir Andrew and Lady Fraser—been so especially kind to my wife I could not thank them enough. Mr. and Mrs. Macpherson, Mrs. Walsh, and many others had never failed in their thoughtfulness, and I hope when they read this they will believe that their kindness will never be forgotten by either of us.
We stopped at Darjiling only a day, which I set apart entirely for our little girl, and then Messrs. White and Wilton, with my wife and myself, set out on our last stage to Simla, where Lord and Lady Ampthill warmly welcomed us to Viceregal Lodge. Lord Kitchener had already asked us by telegram to dine with him our first night at Simla, and from Sir Denzil and Lady Ibbetson, Sir Arundel Arundel, Sir Louis and Lady Dane, and many others we received the greatest kindness.
Nor could anything have been more generous than the support which Lord Ampthill and the whole Government of India gave me in the matter of the disallowed points in the Treaty. But what caused me anxiety was the view which Lord Curzon would take of what I had done. He had recommended me originally on account of my discretion. As long as he was in India he had given me unfailing and ungrudging support, besides the personal encouragement of a real friend; and if he thought that in the end I had failed him I should have been miserable for the rest of my days. I had acted absolutely and entirely on my own responsibility in what, in most difficult circumstances, had seemed to me the best for my country; and I had to take the risk of my action being approved or disapproved. But it would have been indeed a blow if I found Lord Curzon thought I had acted wrongly.