In the night the storm ceased all of a sudden, and it became so still all at once that I awoke. It was as though we had encamped by a waterfall which in an instant ceased to roar. One starts up and wonders what has happened, but one soon becomes accustomed to the stillness, and finds the absence of the noise and the draught a relief.
| 85, 86. The First Tibetans. |
CHAPTER XV
THE FIRST NOMADS
Sad news again on the morning of November 12: two of our best horses were dead, and a third, which had carried two boxes, made in Stockholm, all the way from Leh, was at the point of death. All three had been sound on the preceding evening, and they died with exactly the same symptoms. They became giddy, lost control of their legs, fell down, and were unable to get up again. I hoped to rescue the remnants of my caravan, and was already thinking of the time when I could lead the poor beasts to mangers in Shigatse full of sweet-smelling clover, and now those that we had reckoned the strongest had broken down. Now only 13 horses were left, and the loads would soon be too heavy for the survivors.
But it had not come to that yet, for this day, which commenced so sadly, brought us joy before the sun went down. Following the track of the caravan we rode among hills, and saw below us camp No. 60 in a deep valley. I had just entered my tent when Muhamed Isa announced that Tundup Sonam was coming from the upper valley in the company of two Tibetans, one mounted, the other on foot. Timorous, and doubtful whether Tundup Sonam had allured them to a robber band, the Tibetans laid their long clumsy guns on the ground and came forward cautiously. Tundup had needed all the fascinations of his eloquence to induce them to come with him. He had told them that we were pilgrims accompanying an eminent lama from Ladak to the holy places: Then they had answered that they would come and show their reverence for His Holiness, and bring with them a sheep’s stomach full of butter, and another with goat’s milk, as a testimony of their deep respect. Muhamed Isa, who was accustomed to deal with Tibetans, allayed their fears, taking them into his tent and talking and joking with them. Then they were brought to me, and they laid their presents on the ground, fell on their knees, put out their tongues, and made a low obeisance. Instead of a holy man they found a European, but seemed by no means displeased with the change. Muhamed Isa acted as interpreter. They must first give us information on the geography of the country and the character of the land through which our route lay. The information received from the lady of the mountains was confirmed in every respect, and they told us that we should meet with no men for several days, but after that should pass black tents daily.
Our guests might be fifty and forty years old respectively. The elder was quite a typical specimen, more like an ape than a man; the younger looked as though he had already met with many adventures, and he would have passed very well for a robber chief (Illustrations 85, 86).
The conversation now commenced may have little intrinsic interest, but to us in our condition it was as exciting as a tale—our salvation was involved.