Meanwhile I soon began to regard the affair in a different light, for I perceived that in Gyangtse I should find myself in a worse position than in Shigatse. As long as I remained in Shigatse, the Chinese did not know what to do with me, but in Gyangtse the provisions of the treaty would at once become applicable to my case, and I might be obliged to retire southwards to India. Gaw Daloi’s prohibition with regard to Gyangtse irritated me a little, but I suspected him of using it as a stratagem, and all the more because the authorities of Shigatse offered at the same time to let me baggage animals on hire for my journey thither. Tsaktserkan, as well as Ma, knew that I had received a letter from Gaw, and Ma had long negotiations with the gentlemen from Lhasa. Evidently a political intrigue was going on, and all depended on my playing my cards well.
As early as February 20 I had noticed that the lamas were afraid of the Chinese because of my frequent visits to the monastery, and were becoming more reserved daily. I, however, quietly continued to place myself under their noses, and even to draw the Sakya-tubpa (Buddha). The Chinese pretended to fear that the English would reproach them with a breach of the treaty if they suffered me to sojourn on forbidden ground. My English friends, on the contrary, rejoiced at my success and hoped that I should continue to hold out. Meantime a change might come any day, and therefore I lived in the greatest agitation.
In my answer to Gaw Daloi I begged him to have no anxiety lest I, a Swede, should have any intention of annexing Tibetan territory, and as to § 9, he had not quoted it fully, for it ran as follows: “The Government of Tibet undertakes not to allow a representative or agent of any foreign Power to visit Tibet without the previous consent of the Government of Great Britain.” This paragraph did not apply to my case, for I was already in Tibet, and it did not concern me what agreements the two Governments had made together. My case must be treated from quite a different standpoint.
Ma had at first consented to send my letters to Gyangtse, but now he refused, with the excuse that he might seem too ready to oblige me. Therefore Muhamed Isa had to ride off on February 24 for Gyangtse, to carry my letter and passport to Gaw Daloi, and also to take 3000 rupees in sovereigns, which Major O’Connor had promised to exchange for silver coins.
I also sent a long telegram to the English Prime Minister, asking for the “consent of the Government of Great Britain,” as the Government of Tibet had hitherto placed no practical obstacles in my way. To this telegram I received no reply.
| 164. Dancing Boys with Drums. Sketch by the Author. |
On February 27 Gaw’s answer arrived—not by Muhamed Isa, but by a special messenger; this was diplomatic but imprudent. Gaw wrote that he could not believe I would break a treaty between two great nations for the sake of scientific exploration, that my Chinese passport was not valid here, and that if I were allowed to travel about in Tibet, Russians and Englishmen might claim the same privileges. He concluded with the words: “I have received orders from my Government to arrest you at once, should you come to Gyangtse, and send you with a guard of soldiers across the Indian frontier.” I afterwards learned that he had not a single soldier, and that if he had had the whole Chinese army at his command, he could not have used it against me, if I were staying in Gyangtse as a guest in the British Agency. I replied, however, that I was quite willing to set out, in a north-westerly direction, if Gaw could provide me with a sufficiently large caravan.
On March 1 Ma visited me. He was quite beside himself. The Amban Lien in Lhasa had sharply reprimanded him because, with 1000 native and 150 Chinese soldiers under his command, he had not been intelligent and watchful enough to prevent my coming to Shigatse. He had now to inform me that I must leave the town at once, and asked me to tell him on what day I proposed to start. “Not for a good while yet,” I replied. “The caravan which is to take me back across the Chang-tang must be ready first.” The monks also had been advised from Lhasa to have as little to do with me as possible.
My sojourn in Shigatse had, then, given rise to an exchange of notes and telegrams between Lhasa, Gyangtse, Shigatse, Pekin, Calcutta, and London, and quite against my will I had become a small apple of discord among politicians. My position was so uncertain that I left no stone unturned. The Swedish Minister, Herr G. O. Wallenberg, did all he could in Pekin to obtain for me the permission of the Chinese Government and a passport; he spoke with all the high mandarins, but they with the greatest affability appealed to the treaties in force. The Japanese Embassy in Pekin also made representations, at the request of Count Otani (Kioto), but received the astonishing answer that, if I were in Tibet at all, which was very doubtful, I must be at once expelled from the country. So I met with refusals on all sides. But I was strong in one respect: I stood alone, while my opponents were hampered by having to pay respect to one another’s susceptibilities.