“What does Lobsang think?”
“It would not be wise to give them such a declaration,” he answered with a very troubled face.
“Sahib,” suggested Kutus, “if they give us breathing-time till night, the Sahib and I can hide among the mountains as at the time when we were close to Tsongpun Tashi. When the search is over we can rejoin the caravan farther down. I can carry the Sahib’s papers, and other European articles can be buried in the ground under the tent.”
“They know that we are thirteen,” remarked Gulam.
Under the force of circumstances we had made our way right across Tibet with a trumped-up story, but to let Abdul Kerim confirm a false document with his name-stamp on my account was a little too strong even for my geographical conscience. I could not consent to that. Whatever might happen, our position was still a strong one. We were in the heart of Tibet. The next move would be that we should be sent out of the country, and by whatever way we were obliged to go, I should certainly gain something more. I would absolutely refuse to go to Ladak, but I would be content to go to India through Nepal, or, better still, through Gyangtse.
“No,” I said to my men as I rose up, “I shall give myself up to the Tibetans.”
Then they were all amazed, and began to cry and sob like children.
“Why do you weep?” I asked.
“We shall part here for good, and the Sahib will be killed,” they answered.