The river carries down about 70 cubic feet of clear water per second; it has open water only in the middle, and elsewhere is covered with margins of ice 2 feet thick, and icicles hang from their edges. On the banks, field-mice dart about between their holes. The valley contracts and the river often skirts steep cliffs of schist. Most of the tributaries, and the largest of them, come from the chain which is the immediate continuation of Nien-chen-tang-la. The ice becomes thicker the more the valley contracts and the longer it is in shadow. We often cross it from one bank to the other, where it forms a bridge. Stags’ horns are set up on a mani heap; where do they come from? This valley runs between the two ranges like the Buptsang-tsangpo. On this day we never see a man or a tent.
In the evening a night owl again sat screeching above the camp, and the Ladakis were convinced that it meant to warn us against robbers. If these knew that a European with European weapons was in the caravan they would not attack it; but we were only Ladakis, and the Tibetans despise Ladakis and look upon them as cowards.
On the 18th we travelled southwards to the place (15,407 feet) where our valley enters the Rukyok valley, running down from the west-north-west, at the bottom of which some of the Lunpo-gangri summits were again visible. Still no men were to be seen, only numerous summer camping-places. Two horsemen rode past our camp on the other, right, side of the valley. What did they want? Were they spies? We had every reason to suspect a spy in every human being. No; they were kiang hunters from Gertse, who had left their home and were seeking new dwellings in another province, because of some unpleasantness with the Gertse Pun, the potentate whom we were carefully making away from. They informed us that we were a day’s journey from Pasa-guk, where I had encamped the year before, and three short marches from Saka-dzong. It was hazardous to pass so near a governor’s residence. Abdul Kerim bought one of the riders’ horses for 100 rupees.
This day I put on for the first time a new Ladaki costume. The other was too warm, and, being red, was conspicuous among the others. The new coat was made of worn, tattered sackcloth, and was stained with ashes and soot. In this I looked just like the other men. Now I painted my face regularly every day, and he must be a very smart fellow who could find out that I was not a genuine Ladaki. We had hitherto got on remarkably well, and had only a day’s journey to a place where I had been the year before. But the nervous tension increased more and more, and I wondered every morning what surprises the new day had in store for us.
| 326. Sonam Ngurbu, Chief of the Chokchu Province. 327. Dorche Tsuen,
Governor of the Saka Province. 328. Man with a Singular Cap, in
Sonam Ngurbu’s Escort. 329. Tagla Tsering, the Chief who refused to
let me go to the Dangra-yum-tso. Sketches by the Author. |
April 19. As we were starting, two men passed on foot, driving before them 200 sheep laden with salt. Our way was the same as theirs and we had to pass them. While I drove our own sheep down the road, Abdul Kerim stopped and talked with the men, to draw off their attention; but we could see that they were interested in our strange party, and looked closely at us. I limped, thinking that the Tibetans had never seen a lame European, if they had seen any European at all. But the people had seen me in Pasa-guk and Saka-dzong the year before, and then I did not halt. I had come off well from our troublesome neighbours and also past the large yak caravan, which a couple of days ago had turned off another way but had now come into ours again. We met a large sheep caravan with a mounted party; a woman was said to be the wife of the Gova of Rukyok. The people we had just met were not so dangerous as those that followed.
We left the Rukyok river farther and farther to the right, and directly to the south appeared quite close the lofty summit which rises above Pasa-guk. We had left the salt-laden sheep and the yaks behind us, and we came at length to the bank of our old friend the Chaktak-tsangpo, which was considerably smaller than at the end of May and beginning of June the year before. Here we left the high-road to the south, and marched northwards along the Chaktak-tsangpo’s right, or western bank, where we soon encamped on a meadow (15,203 feet).
When Abdul Kerim came back he was very solemn. He had had great difficulty in answering questions why we followed a byway along the Chaktak-tsangpo instead of taking the highway to Saka-dzong as all other travellers did. He had replied that we were sent to find out how much sheep’s wool would be for sale in the country next summer. Then the men of the salt caravan had said: “You cannot be afraid of robbers; they frequent the mountains up here. Are you well armed?”
“Yes, we have two guns and some revolvers.”
“You will want them. We see that you are peaceful people, so we warn you. Six days ago a robber band, eighteen men strong, each with his horse and gun, attacked a tent village here in the neighbourhood. They pillaged 3 tents, took 400 sheep and about 200 yaks, and made off by the road you intend to follow. Men were collected and sent after them, but two were killed and the others ran away. No one knows where the band is now. If you value your lives, keep a sharp watch at night. If they attack you, let them plunder you; you are only thirteen, and cannot defend yourselves.”