On December 12 we left the Bogtsang-tsangpo and directed our steps towards the south-east. At night a violent storm arose, but the minimum temperature was only 13.5°; the night before there were 56.7 degrees of frost.
Another mule died in the night, and the surviving animals had to be carefully guarded from the wolves, which were unusually daring. We started on December 13 to the pass La-ghyanyak (16,932 feet high), where a pyramidal cairn marks the divide between the Bogtsang-tsangpo and the Dangra-yum-tso. The former can be seen meandering along its valley to its termination in the lake Dagtse-tso; the latter is not yet visible, but we can guess where its basin lies among the huge mountain massives. Yonder lay the holy lake Dangra-yum-tso, which had long been our aim, and whither I had requested Colonel Dunlop Smith to send my letters. To the south-west arose two dominating snowy peaks above a sea of mountainous undulations, and in the same direction lay a small round lake, the Tang-yung-tsaka, already seen by Nain Sing, and named by him Tang-yung-tso (Illustration 90). The country seemed desolate and uninhabited, and no riders spurred through the valleys to block our way. Farther down we passed two tents, where the inmates told us we were on the wrong way if we wished to go to the Dangra-yum-tso, for it could be reached in a direction due south in four short marches. All Naktsang knew, they said, that a Peling was coming, a report that, however, had probably spread from the north, not from the south. If the mail-runner had actually reached the lake, he would hear that we were not far off, and would look out for us.
Now the thermometer sank to −24° again, and we let the animals rest a day. Meanwhile I, with Robert and Shukkur Ali, made an excursion on foot through a singularly wild romantic valley, which was little over a yard broad in some places, and was cut out between vertical walls. Often the bottom is filled with fallen blocks, which obstruct the way, but elsewhere it is occupied by a brook, now frozen up. The rapids and waterfalls of this brook are also congealed into glassy ice, and shine with a bluish-green tinge in the depth of the valley, where the summer flood has excavated curious caves. Here the wind is confined as in a pair of bellows, and roars and whistles round the cliffs. In an expansion of the valley we kindle a fire and take a rest. Along the precipice above us six proud eagles soar with motionless wings.
According to previous arrangement Rabsang came to meet us with some of our yaks, so that we could ride back. He brought us disturbing news. At the tents we had seen farther up the valley on the day before, twelve armed men had collected to waylay us. An express messenger had, it seems, brought word from Shigatse that we must be driven back to the north. I did not question him further, and we rode home in silence. It was a bitter experience now, when we had looked down from La-ghanyak on the great unknown country crossed only by Nain Sing’s route of the year 1874, which we had intended to intersect at one point only, to see all the grand discoveries, of which I had dreamt so long, blown away like mist. And it was especially irritating to think that others might come here later and rob me of these conquests. Reminiscences of the past autumn and early winter came into my head; we had successfully executed an immense traverse over the Chang-tang, and at the critical moment the nomads had come to our assistance. It had been a splendid bold journey hitherto, but I had always considered it only as a prologue to the grand plans which kept me awake at night and had occupied my thoughts during the long weary ride. And now they would receive their death-blow. Now my dreams of victory would be resolved into blue haze, like the smoke of the camp-fire which marked the southernmost point of our advance into the forbidden land.
CHAPTER XVII
CHRISTMAS IN THE WILDS
Much depressed but outwardly composed, I dismounted from the yak and entered my tent just as Tsering brought in the brazier. The tent seemed more dismal than usual, the brazier made me feel weary, and at this moment I seemed to realize how lonely and dull my life had been all through the winter; but Tsering was as tranquil as usual, and raked the fire with the tongs to remove some still smoking dung.
“Now you see that I was right; how often have I told you that we should be ordered to halt at the Bogtsang-tsangpo?” I said.