“We are on the way to the Tashi Lama, who is expecting us.”
“Here we have nothing to do with the Tashi Lama; we are under the direct rule of the Government in Lhasa.”
Tundup Sonam, who had also gone to the tents, noticed that two youths were absent, and was convinced that they had been despatched as express messengers to the nearest Bombo or chief, in the south. We must therefore make all haste to reach a district which was under the control of Tashi-lunpo.
Later on a wanderer came to our camp. He was ragged and miserable, and said that he was one of a party of 35 pilgrims from Nakchu, who with 600 sheep and 100 yaks had visited the holy lake and mountain in Ngari-korsum, and were now on their way home to Nakchu, where they would arrive in three months. The pilgrimage takes two years or more to accomplish, for the people remain for days, and often weeks, together where there is good pasturage. They followed the north side of the Chargut-tso along an old established pilgrim route.
| 89. ”Where are you going?” they asked me. |
We broke up our camp early on December 1, with a temperature of −24.2°, which cost us the loss of another mule. He was at once devoured by the wolves, which were so bold that they did not go away when we rode past. When we had accomplished about half our march we came to a tent of which two snappy light yellow dogs seemed to be the only masters. But no doubt the inmates were afraid to show themselves, and examined us only through their spy-holes. Near this day’s camp there were more tents, and my usual dealers obtained two yaks, three sheep, and a can of dirty milk. Before the Tibetans would deal, they first inquired whether there was not a Peling (a European) in our party, and declared that they would visit our camp to convince themselves that such was not the case. The answer given them was that the principal personage in our company was a Kalun, or high official, from Ladak, and that we had several dangerous dogs. On that they gave up their visit. But when we started off two of them were present, one of whom Muhamed Isa took as a guide. The other remained standing by us and looked at me, trying to find out whether I was a Peling or a Kalun. He was certainly doubtful, for he looked exceedingly disturbed as we rode off.
This day Robert and I lost our way. We had taken the Hajji as guide, but he lost the trail, and stupidly wandered about aimlessly. As he had to seek for the track again, we settled down on an open space beside a fire, while the storm roared above our heads and dark threatening snow-clouds swept over the mountains to the north. At last Muhamed Isa became uneasy and sent out scouts, who at length found us out.
Camp No. 77 was situated in the higher part of a lateral valley, where a spring was frozen into huge clumps of ice. At the fire we encountered two strangers in red turbans, round which their locks were twisted, with ivory rings, silver image cases, and fur coats trimmed with red and green ribands; they were armed with sabres encased in silver-mounted scabbards, richly encrusted with inferior coral and turquoise; they wore new coloured felt boots, and had their black muskets hanging from their shoulders. They belonged to the troop of pilgrims from Nakchu. Our Ladakis, however, were convinced that they were come to spy upon us. If we seemed too strong for them, they would only ask—as, in fact, happened—if we had anything to sell; otherwise they would steal our horses. Meanwhile they behaved very civilly, were exceedingly friendly, and promised to return next morning with some yaks and sheep, which we might buy.
“We will remain near you till it is dark and will return before daybreak, for if any one saw us trading with a Peling, we should pay dearly for it.”
“You need not be afraid, we shall not betray you,” I said.