TIBETAN BORDER-LAND
The fears of the officials with regard to possible dangers were in some respects justifiable. A great part of the country between the Yalung and the borders of Tibet proper was and is under the direct or indirect control of lamas, who show very little respect for Chinese suzerainty. It was only recently that two French missionaries were cruelly butchered by the lamas somewhere near the Tali-Batang trade route; and a young Scotsman named Forrest, who had been collecting botanical specimens in the same locality, only escaped with his life after being hunted by the lamas with dogs, and suffering extraordinary privations. The country into which my road should lead me after crossing the Yalung was also directly ruled by lamas; and while I was in Tachienlu there were rumours to the effect that the lama-prince of that region, though far from the scene of actual fighting, was not only secretly supporting the rebels, but had caused the roads in his territory to be torn up and blocked in order to prevent the advance of Chinese reinforcements from Yunnan. The war, indeed, was not progressing altogether favourably for the Chinese. It was whispered that on one occasion a whole regiment had been cut to pieces during a night attack. The Tibetans had eluded the sentries, who were probably asleep, rushed the camp, put out the fires, slaughtered many defenceless soldiers, and then quietly vanished, leaving the Chinese to shoot and stab each other in the extremity of their panic. Other rumours stated that five hundred Chinese troops had joined the Tibetans, and were receiving from them twelve tiao (about thirty shillings) a month each—much larger pay than they drew from China; and that the tributary prince of Litang—the state that adjoins Chala on the west—was only waiting to hear of another serious reverse to the Chinese troops before throwing in his lot with the rebels. Probably these rumours were much exaggerated, but they caused much uneasiness to the Chinese of Tachienlu, who for a long time past had been living in constant dread of a massacre. I heard that some time before my arrival the Tibetans were expected to attempt a great coup by making a sudden descent on Tachienlu itself, and any Tibetan in the city who was suspected of treasonable dealings with the rebels was imprisoned or closely watched. The principal Chinese merchants sent the bulk of their goods to Wa Ssŭ Kou or Lu Ting Ch'iao, and were ready to start for the east themselves at the first signs of serious trouble. The worst of the panic had passed away before my arrival, chiefly owing to the vigour and severity with which the Government was dealing with the insurrection and the large numbers of Chinese soldiers that almost daily passed through Tachienlu on their way to the front.
Whether the prefect was sincere in his apprehensions regarding my safety if I insisted on crossing the wilder parts of the eastern Tibetan states I have no means of knowing; at any rate, he appeared to regard the written declaration already quoted as sufficient to relieve him of all responsibility in the matter; and as soon as that question was settled, both he and the king showed themselves ready to give me every reasonable assistance, and placed no further obstacles in my way. The king deputed a man of his own—a Tibetan who spoke a little Chinese—to act as my guide to the boundary of his territory on the Yalung river, and the prefect and colonel ordered three soldiers to escort me as far as the town of Yung-ning, just within the Yunnan frontier. I had also previously engaged a young man, whose father was a Chinese and his mother a Tibetan from Lhasa, to act as my personal servant, and this youth accompanied me almost as far as the frontier of Upper Burma. As a speaker of both Tibetan and Chinese, he proved a useful member of my party. The king was also obliging enough to accord to me the valuable privilege of ula, which would (within his territory) obviate all difficulties about transport. The ula was in this instance no hardship for the people, as I undertook to pay more than double the ordinary rates for all animals required for my use.
1. CHINESE HALF-RUPEE AND TIBETAN COINS.
2. REDUCED FACSIMILE OF SILVER PLAQUE WORN BY WOMEN IN THE YALUNG VALLEY.
3. CLAY VOTIVE TABLETS FROM MULI, WITH MINIATURE BUDDHAS.
4. EAR-RING WORN BY MO-SO WOMEN OF YUNG-NING.
[CHAPTER X]
TACHIENLU TO PA-U-RONG, YALUNG RIVER
I set out from Tachienlu on 15th April. My caravan consisted of three mules to carry my baggage and silver[175] (very light loads which in level country might have been carried by a single mule), two riding mules for myself and my servant, and four for my escort. Half a mile beyond the city I crossed the stone bridge known locally as the Gate of Tibet, close under the walls of a gloomy lamasery, and entered the long defile that leads into the heart of the great mountains. The road gradually rose to a height of about 2,250 feet above Tachienlu, and at the hamlet of Chê-to—about 10,650 feet above sea-level, and about 40 li from Tachienlu—I found a haven for the night in a ruinous hut.