From the Christmas camp we travelled southwards over two passes, of which the second, called Laen-la, forms a watershed between the Dubok-tso and the Ngangtse-tso. The great lake itself we do not see yet, but a distant bluish background of mountain chain which rises from the southern shore of the lake. A yak was lost; he was not exhausted, but his fore-hoof had split so that he had become lame. When once he had laid himself down no power on earth could induce him to get up again; tugging at the rope, which was passed through his nasal cartilage, availed nothing. We therefore left him behind, and gave him to the natives nearest to our camp. Several yaks and the surviving veterans from Leh were in need of a thorough rest, so we decided to remain a fortnight at the great lake. It was certainly risky to linger so long at one place in Naktsang, where I had met with such determined opposition in the year 1901, for we should give the authorities time to make their preparations. But we must rest; we had no choice.

After a night temperature of −24.20° we marched down the longitudinal valley to a point immediately above the place where the valley emerges into the lake-plain, and bivouacked near a group of tents containing six households. The whole country is corroded with mouse holes, and sometimes they lie in stages one above another. If one reckoned in the central parts of Tibet only one field-mouse to the square yard, the resulting total would be marvellous. At camp No. 97, for instance, it was impossible to lay down my bed without covering several holes, and I was awaked in the morning by the mice, which were making a noise and squeaking beneath my bed, and wondering why they could not get out of their house door.

The nomads of the district were friendly disposed, and sold us sheep, butter, and milk. They said that the high road to Shigatse skirted the east side of the lake; another to the west of the Ngangtse-tso was much longer and more difficult. The highway to Lhasa runs eastwards through Shanza-dzong. Thus far it had been followed by Nain Sing, whose route we crossed here; for from the Marku-tso, a small lagoon on the north shore, the road he took passes to the west-north-west. Many nomad communities winter on the extensive plains of the lake shore, especially on the south side. The nomads never travel over the lake, the most direct and quickest way, for they mistrust the ice, and our last guide would on no account accompany us over the lake, but warned us of the thin ice. His statements seemed to me more probable when he said that the lake was salt, that the water was not fit for drinking, and that there were neither fish nor plants in it.

The long period of rest must be utilized somehow. It had, moreover, been one of the aims proposed in the original scheme of my journey, to investigate the country round the central lakes discovered in 1874 by Nain Sing, and to execute soundings in several of them. If the ice held firm we could go over the lake, and sound through holes. Two men were therefore sent out to examine the ice: 100 paces from the bank the ice was 11 inches thick, at 200 paces 10¼ inches, and even at 300 paces 10 inches; so I determined to commence at the nearest point to our headquarters.

Robert and Muhamed Isa were to remain behind to watch over our animals and attend to them. It might, indeed, be risky to split up our caravan just at this time, but I could not remain idle for a whole fortnight. There was everything we needed at the headquarters—nomads, pasturage, water, and fuel; the place seemed to be of some importance, for a round mani stood in the valley, and Robert found on a ridge a samkang, a hermit’s cave, with a small stone wall in front of it. There the lama Togldan was wont to dwell in summer, earning his bread from the neighbouring nomads by murmuring formulæ to conjure evil spirits, and offering up prayers for the prosperity of their flocks. We had an hour and a half’s journey to the northern shore, and there innumerable camping-places indicate summer visits of nomads. There the tents are situated among excellent pasture lands, exposed to the noonday sun, with the great lake, often agitated by boisterous storms, in front of them.

We got ready provisions for ten days for myself and half a dozen Ladakis. Two live sheep were taken. The men were to take Robert’s small tent, but I intended to sleep under a half of the boat, which was to be pushed over the ice as a sledge, laden with all the baggage, bed, furs, and instruments. The boat would also be a source of safety should we at any time venture on to too thin ice. The white puppy was to go with us to keep me company. During my absence Robert occupied my tent, where the barograph and the thermograph ticked on my boxes.

On the afternoon of December 29 I rode down to the Ngangtse-tso, where camp No. 98 was pitched on a lagoon under the shelter of a shore embankment. Towards the east-south-east the country is open as far as the sight can carry; the eastern shore of the lake is scarcely perceptible, the western not at all; in the south-west snow mountains rise up, which, I said to myself, must be Nain Sing’s “Targot Lha Snowy Peaks.” Rabsang was my valet, Bulu my cook; they arranged my improvised hut, and the building material consisted of half of the boat, the stand of my photographic camera, and a frieze rug. For dinner I was given leg of mutton, sour milk, bread, orange marmalade, and tea; and then I smoked an Indian cheroot and gazed at the lake, which was to be thoroughly investigated during the succeeding days.

The 30th of December, a Sunday, began brightly with 45.2 degrees of frost. Puppy had kept my feet warm. It was rather tight work washing and dressing in my den, but when at last I was ready, I could enjoy the fire, the sight of the sun and of the great lake. The baggage was quickly packed, and the boat was dragged on to the ice and kept in equilibrium by two runners, while six men pushed it forward. But the ice gave us much trouble. The salt separated out on freezing had collected on the surface like dry potato flour, sometimes forming continuous sheets, sometimes swept up into banks, ridges, and drifts, in which the runners and keel stuck fast. However, in spite of it, we worked our way on in a direction 9° east of south, where I had selected a small dark cliff on the south shore as a landmark. The first hole was cut out; the ice was 8½ inches thick, and the depth of the lake, reckoned from the edge of the ice, only 13 feet.

After we had wandered on for some time we held a council; I saw that we could not go on as we were. We took off the runners and put together three simple sledges, on each of which a third of the baggage was tied. And in this way we struggled on a short distance farther, while I went on foot. At the next hole the depth was 18.7 feet; probably we were on one of those extraordinarily shallow salt lakes, such as I had often met with in north-eastern Tibet. Again we held a consultation; our sledges made such slow progress that we should never get over the lake at all, far less traverse it several times. When two of the baggage sledges, which had lingered far behind, came up, I sent a message to Robert to send me more men and all the pieces of old boxes that were in the caravan.

91, 92, 93. On the Ngangtse-tso.