“I have seen the Bombo before,” he said, “in the neighbourhood of Nakchu. You had a Buryat and a lama with you. That is seven years ago.”
“Quite right. Have you brought me a message?”
“No; I only wish to ask if you are disposed to buy two good yaks from me. You can have them for half their value.”
“Thanks; we do not want any yaks now. What is your occupation?”
“Robber!” he answered, without blinking.
After he had gone, Kamba Tsenam informed me that some time ago the man had killed a nomad in Rukyok, and now was come to treat about the compensation for the murder. The authorities were looking eagerly for the band to which he belonged, and Kamba Tsenam and Panchor knew exactly where they were hiding, but would not betray them lest they should be robbed of their property in revenge. Kamba Tsenam and his brother were evidently on very confidential terms with the robbers of the country, and I very much suspected that they were in league with some of them. In Panchor we had certainly an actual robber chief as guide. He himself told us that the Devashung had tried to engage him in their service as a spy and guide, when they wished to track up an evaded robber band, but he would not consent. He knew that we had a large quantity of money with us, and we were not too safe in his company. He could very well arrange a night attack and in the end play the innocent. He pretended not to know the country beyond a couple of days’ journey to the north, but when he inspected our six horses he said: “This one you bought from an old nomad to the west of Sha-kangsham, and this one from Tsongpun Tashi.” If he knew every horse in the country, he must also know the country very well. I asked him to go over the names of our camping-places to the north, but he gave only the first two, and added: “The rest you will know as you go on, and if I cannot find them myself, there will always be some robbers I can ask.”
On May 7 we took leave of the old robber chief Kamba Tsenam, and rode in close order up to the pass Gyegong-la, which has a height of 18,012 feet. The pass stands on a distinctly marked chain, which is called Kanchung-gangri, and it was very interesting to find that all the water on the northern side of the pass flowed to the upper Chaktak-tsangpo. Kanchung-gangri is therefore not part of the main range of the Trans-Himalaya, and the Gyegong-la is only a secondary pass. The great watershed lay some days’ journey farther to the north.
On the northern side we passed a warm spring, Memo-chutsen, which at the orifice had a temperature of 93.6°, while in another the water boiled and steamed. The springs are surrounded by sinter, terraces, and basins in which sick people bathe.
Panchor had an old field-glass and diligently looked out for robbers and wild yaks. He said that we ought always to keep together in case we were attacked by robbers he did not know, and he bade us help with our weapons in the defence.
The camp this day was No. 400.