“Ordered to halt?” exclaimed Tsering in astonishment.
“Yes, now we are stuck fast, but I will not move a step from the spot until the Tibetans have provided me with a new caravan, though I have to wait all the winter. Then we will go north-eastwards, look for the Mongolian pilgrim road, and hasten to Pekin. I will force the Mandarins to allow me to see the parts of Tibet where no European has yet been.”
“I do not understand what the Sahib means; hitherto no one has hindered us, and the country southwards lies open before us.”
“What are you talking about? Have they not come this very day to stop our further progress?”
“No, on the contrary, three Tibetans are sitting with Muhamed Isa, and they are most civil and friendly.”
“Has, then, Rabsang played a trick on me and the Babu Sahib?”
“Ah,” replied Tsering, laughing, “now I understand the matter. Rabsang was up at the tents this morning, and allowed himself to be frightened by a Tibetan, who told him that we should be forced to remain where we are, for we had no right to travel southwards to Naktsang. But that was only the Tibetan’s own notion, and Rabsang, who had to go immediately after to the valley with the yaks, had not heard how matters really stood with us.”
“Bravo, Tsering, slay the fattest sheep we have got, and invite every one to a feast. I will have the kidneys fried in their own fat.”
Now the storm-beaten tent seemed more comfortable and the brazier sent out a pleasant kindly heat. I sat buried in thought, wondering whether this were a good omen, when Muhamed Isa announced a visit of the three Tibetans. I invited them to take a seat at the fire. Turning to the chief man, who wore a blood-red fur coat and a brick-red fox-skin cap, I asked him who he was.