Immediately beyond the camp we crossed on the 25th a small saddle, where we obtained an instructive insight into the lie of the land. The eyes swept unhindered over all the wide plain, with the three streams forming the Tagrak-tsangpo meandering over the level ground in capricious curves and bends like silver ribands in the brown and grey country. Close to us on the south-east is the Kesar-tsangpo, which receives the Naong-tsangpo at the foot of our gap, and then cutting through our mountain begins its course in the Kayi-rung valley. Farther off to the north-east the Naong-tsangpo has already absorbed the waters of the Kung-tsangpo, and with them makes its way to the Kayi-rung valley and the Ngangtse-tso. The great plain is enclosed by moderately high, rounded mountains and hills.
After crossing the Kesar-tsangpo we follow the right bank, upwards as far as Toa-nadsum, where we bivouac. A quadrangular wall of earth marks the spot where the bombo, or chief of the district, usually erects his tent; now he is in Tashi-lunpo to pay his tax. In the adjoining valleys there are at the present time twenty-two tents, but only four near our camp, and in these beggars are wintering in great poverty. The country is said to be noted for its cold, raw climate even in summer. It rains in June and July, but the fall varies very much from year to year. If it rains hard for a long time, all the rivers swell, draining water from a thousand valleys, and the Tagrak-tsangpo is then sometimes unfordable.
When we started on the following day in a twilight caused by heavy clouds, the poor natives came up holding out their hands for tsamba or money, and each received a coin. Our way ran to the east-south-east, to the Naong-rung valley, traversed by the Naong-tsangpo, now frozen to the bottom. We now ascended gradually, and at camp No. 115 found ourselves at a height of 16,844 feet.
Two large black nomad dogs fell in love with the brown puppy, and followed us as though they belonged to the family. One limped, having at some time hurt his leg; he was old and shaggy, and was received with stones and abuse. Yet he clung to us faithfully, and put up with hard words from the men and the offal from slaughtered sheep. He was at last admitted a member of our travelling company, and hobbled, with drooping head and tongue hanging out, over lofty passes and through deep valleys, and answered to the name of “Cripple.” As he was old he often lagged behind, but in spite of his slow pace he always turned up and took his place before Muhamed Isa’s tent. He was the grand dog of our tent court, and was much concerned about us when danger threatened. Naturally he became a friend of us all, was allowed to eat as much as he liked, and acquired a position in the caravan. Then we would gladly have forgotten we had had the heart to beat him, and to greet him with stones and whips—he, our Cripple, who had come to us of his own accord to defend us and guard our tents, only asking free board in exchange; for free lodging of course he had under the everlasting stars in great desolate winterly cold Tibet.
CHAPTER XXI
OVER THE TRANS-HIMALAYA
January 27. Storm as usual. We march in a south-easterly direction, guided by the river system of the Tagrak-tsangpo, which branches off into smaller and smaller ramifications, and no one interferes with us or takes the slightest notice of our advance. From a small pass we look down on the two tributaries of the Naong-tsangpo, the Pupchung-tsangpo, and the Kelung-tsangpo, and follow the latter. It conducts us to a second saddle with a stone cairn and prayer streamers; from a pole in the middle strings radiate out to the four cardinal points, bearing rags and ribands, and fastened to the ground by small stones. From a third watershed of secondary rank the guide points out a pass of the first order in the Pabla mountains which we shall cross to-morrow. We now find ourselves in a high alpine region without herbage; only moss grows among the pebbles. Camp No. 116 is pitched in the valley of the Pupchung-tsangpo. The brook descends from the Pupchung-ri, a part of the main crest. To the south-east we see the two mountains Tormakaru and Sangra covered with snow. Here nomads never encamp, for the elevation is too great. Only when officials from Tashi-lunpo travel here on duty are the nomads living nearest obliged to set up tents for them.