| 364. The Village of Lunkar. |
| 365. Group of Tibetans at the Teri-nam-tso. |
He gave me also much valuable information about the country round Nam-tso or Tengri-nor, where he was born. He had gone twice round Nam-tso, thrice round Tso-mavang, and twelve times round Kang-rinpoche, which he intended to visit again soon, to complete the thirteenth circuit of salvation. He considered it superfluous to make the circuit of Dangra-yum-tso and Targo-gangri, for he had already tramped so far that all his sins must be forgiven, and he was sure of promotion in the next incarnation. Panchor had not the slightest doubt that a man or horse which had drunk of the water of Tso-mavang or Nam-tso was for ever immune from illness, robbers, and wolves. “It is just as though a fire blazed out of that part of the body where the wolf intends to seize him,” he affirmed. But he considerably modified his statements after I had told him that we had a mule which had drunk for a whole month of the water of Tso-mavang and yet had been torn in pieces by wolves at Gartok. “Yes,” he replied, “the protection is only for Tibetans and their animals, not for Europeans and their animals. And if the wolf itself drank of the holy water it would avail nothing; he would still seize his prey.”
On the 15th of May we set out again in a snowstorm, whereas I had been looking forward ever since January to spring. It caused great merriment, both among the Tibetans and the Ladakis, when one of the escort who did not know Kunchuk’s name, spoke of him as “that there calf.” We had travelled a good long way before they ceased to laugh at the newly invented title, which stuck to Kunchuk ever after.
The valley opens out on to a plain where kiangs, Goa and Pantholops antelopes are plentiful. From the ridge of a hill we see to the east another still larger plain, beyond which Targo-gangri would be visible if the mountain were not shrouded in clouds and falling snow. Buchu-tso is a small pool which dries up in summer. There lay three black tents, and beyond another hill in the locality Kangmar, seven. When we encamped, sixty men, women, and children came out and watched us. They had gathered together here to pay their taxes to a collector from Saka. The district is called Bongba-chushar, and the elderly Gova came to visit us. He was a discreet man and put no awkward questions. Panchor, who was accustomed to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, had probably given him an account of us beforehand. It seems he was terribly frightened, for he had never in his life seen a European. However, he gave us much valuable information about the country, among other things, that the little twin lakes Mun-tso lay to the north of the Barong-la and east of the Teri-nam-tso, not south of the Dangra-yum-tso as on Nain Sing’s map, which I had myself found to be incorrect. On the way to the Teri-nam-tso we should be able in two places to steal goose eggs; it was forbidden to the Tibetans for three years to take them, but a European could permit himself anything without having to answer for it to the gods of heaven and earth.
After a day’s rest we marched north-north-east to the broad longitudinal valley of Soma-tsangpo. The river descends from the east-south-east, and probably has its source in the great mountain system we saw from the Shuru-tso. Here it runs west-north-west, but afterwards turns north and north-eastwards, and therefore makes a sharp curve before it enters the Teri-nam-tso. Its bed is flat and shallow, and at the time carried down about 280 cubic feet of water per second, but it is so full in summer that sometimes it cannot be forded. We camped at a spring in a valley at the farther side, and on May 18 ascended the adjacent pass, Dongchen-la, and on its south slopes twenty-four Ovis Ammon sheep were a fine sight.
On the night of the 19th, the minimum temperature was 29.5°, and now it felt as if spring were really come, or even summer. The way ran north-west up a steep valley, where granite and dark schists were twice observed in situ, to the small pass Teta-la (16,266 feet), where we had at length a free view over the longed-for lake Teri-nam-tso, Nain Sing’s Tede-nam-tso, which he never visited nor saw, but only heard of, and inserted with a broken line quite correctly on his map. The only mistake he made was to draw the lake longer from north to south instead of from east to west.
To obtain an uninterrupted view we climbed up a height on the north side of the pass (16,972 feet). The scene here displayed in all directions was one of the grandest and most memorable tableaus I have seen in Tibet. The “heavenly lake” lay like a great flat-cut turquoise framed in mountains and hills shaded in pink, red, yellow, and purple, which, towards the horizon, gradually passed into a light blue veil. Only to the south-east quadrant is the view obstructed by adjacent heights belonging to the chain on the crest of which we stand, and which runs along the southern shore of the lake, but elsewhere the view is open, dizzy, boundless, and the eyes scan both Sha-kangsham’s majestic peak and Targo-gangri’s many-headed ridge, and the seven-times-mounted main range of the Trans-Himalaya, with its snow-crowned heights rising in a row of bright white domes to the south. Many other peaks and domes with eternal snow rise over this sea of tumbled waves, but, after all, the finest sight is the lake itself, which charms and fascinates the spectator by its intense ultramarine hue, a couple of shades deeper and stronger than turquoise. When one first comes to the saddle of the pass and this wealth of colouring strikes the retina, one can scarcely restrain an exclamation of astonishment and admiration. We look down straight on the lake, and its southern shore is just below us. To the west it extends for two days’ journey, and widens out enormously, while to the east it contracts and seems to stretch a good day’s journey. Due north-east the blue surface is broken by a steep rocky islet, with a level shore only in the east, and further east one fancies one can detect the hollow where the basin of the Dangra-yum-tso skirts the northern foot of the divine Targo-gangri mountain.
Beautiful weather, not a cloud on the blue vault of heaven, calm and quiet, only the gentlest whisper over the hills sounding in the ears like the tinkle of small bells and the vibration of strings. One feels overwhelmed by this grand beauty, which speaks more powerfully to the senses than the high mass of any archbishop. I stood several hours up here and made a hopeless attempt to sketch the landscape, but succeeded in producing only a feeble imitation of the reality. From the Teta-la one commands a very considerable area of the heart of Tibet. How extensive is the line of Sha-kangsham! How many are the points from which I have viewed this wonderful mountain on different journeys! Like a gigantic beacon, a marvellous landmark, it raises its snow-covered dome above desolate Tibet. And we were far from its dripping glaciers when for the last time it sank below the horizon like a dream of snow and roses.
At last we had to drag ourselves away and follow the track of the other men to a little dreary valley where they had encamped near a couple of tents. Even here the view was remarkable. How I now missed my old tried boat, and how gladly I would have glided with sail and oar over the heavenly lake!
| 366. The Village of Lunkar from the Temple Hill. |
| 367. The Southern Shore of Manasarowar with Grazing Yaks. |