“I could not know,” he said, “that you were nice men when you tied me by the neck to this horrible tent pole. I thought that you would tease and torment and starve me, and throw stones and dirt at me, as the Tibetans have done ever since I can remember. But I see that you are well disposed towards me, and give me two good meals of mutton every day. I know that you, in spite of your rags, are a bombo-chimbo, and that Abdul Kerim is only a servant. Be at ease, I will not let any one come near your tent; I will watch over you at night, I will never betray you, I will follow you everywhere; you may trust in me. But now come and play with me a little; take away this useless tent pole, and let us be no longer strangers.”
His shrewd brown eyes showed plainly that this was what he meant to say, word for word. I took his shaggy head in my arms and squeezed it. Then he jumped up on me and began to dance and yelp with joy, and enticed me out of my tent. Then I took hold of him again, untied the knots, and released him from his pole, to the great astonishment of my men, who were sitting in the open around a fire. No one had ever ventured so near to Takkar, except Little Puppy, and without the slightest jealousy the little cub joined in the game, which henceforth whiled away daily a couple of hours of my weary captivity.
CHAPTER LXV
BUPTSANG-TSANGPO, ONE OF THE LARGEST RIVERS OF THE HEART OF TIBET
It was with a feeling of relief that we broke up our camp on March 30, after we had succeeded in extricating ourselves from the net which had so nearly held us fast in its meshes. Through here runs the so-called Serpun-lam, or gold-inspectors’ road, which extends through the interior of Tibet from Lhasa to Tok-jalung, and is one of the greatest high-roads of the country. We did not yet feel quite safe, but we had heard some assuring news: Karma Puntso had taken a journey of several days northwards to a place in Chang-tang where he owned large flocks of sheep. Most of the nomads in Bongba had sent their sheep to the north, where the grazing was much better. This was of great advantage to us, for now only women, old men, and children remained in the tents of Bongba, while most of the men were following the sheep. It was part of the trial of my patience that I could not have the slightest dealings with Tibetans, for I should have betrayed myself at once by my defective utterance of the language. I never talked with them, but pulled the strings of my marionettes from my place of concealment.
The wild-geese had now commenced their migrations, and we constantly heard their cries above our tents. On March 30 we found an excellent path along the river in which we had caught fish just below Ladung-la. The country was very open and flat, and we passed at some distance from twelve tents. Near the last we pitched camp 368, and bought a black horse. We had now four horses, of which one was a veteran from Ladak; now I rode the first horse we had bought—a brown one. The last three mules and the two yaks from the Tsong-tso were in good condition. When we encamped near natives, Takkar was tied up outside the entrance to my tent to keep off inquisitive visitors. He had been bred and reared among Tibetans, and had never seen any other people in his life till lately, and yet now he became mad with rage if he saw a Tibetan only at a distance. I had often to pay various sums in rupees to those of his two-legged fellow-countrymen whose unprotected legs he had bitten, and he was never contented without a slight effusion of blood.
We followed the river south-south-westwards for another day’s journey to camp 369, where some poor nomads were encamping by a sheet of snow. Sha-kangsham’s summit came into sight again, this time to the north, 30° E., rising like a gigantic beacon above the mountains. Five days’ journey to the west-north-west was pointed out the salt lake, Tabie-tsaka, the position of which I had sought in vain to ascertain from the tasam. In the afternoon when I sat outside to draw a panorama, nomads were strolling and peering about, so that I had to post watchmen. In the evening all around was pitch-dark: there was no moon, only dense clouds. Our animals had disappeared, and as there was good reason to fear wolves and horse-stealers, eight men were sent out to look for them. They had revolvers, and fired a few shots to let any possible disturbers of the peace know that we were armed. The animals would not freeze, for the temperature fell in the night only to 18°, and in the morning they had come back again all right. The only one missing was the greyish-yellow dog; thinking, perhaps, that he had fallen into bad company, he had gnawed through his rope and run home in the night to his miserable tent.
Now the path runs south-south-west up to the little easy pass Satsot-la (15,932 feet), in red porphyry and with a way-mark. In the wide valley in front of us lies the lake Chunit-tso, and on its farther side rises a red mountain of regular form. We pass several manis, and on the right hand a miniature lake called Chabuk-tso, where Tubges shot two wild-geese. The honorary huntsman often supplied me with game; he was called by his comrades simply Shyok, after his home, just as we call one of our acquaintances Jönköping or Falsterbo.